I
chance color, this aborted membrane, this mucus leviathan: at locus brains,
afforded six deaths, at boarders our ninth decision: to aim accuracy, to
explode on contact, to hit pavement bleeding Jesus: this radical woman, this
floating frenzy, our mail forwarded to China: at black shivers, at terrible
concerns, to attempt to tame Cleopatra: this Calypso green, this frantic
machine, at daisies a bit aloof: this lily chaos, this cultured maniac, at love
so sickly: to kiss Egypt, to remodel New York, at Tennessee mornings: this
Canadian Castle, this Canadian Glen, at roots forbidden from agonies: our
bruised this, our bruised that, where it meant so little: this curse in soul,
this neck-bite, those back scratches: if but to perish, looking at pictures,
afforded three chances to resurrect: our tides raging, our winds flaring, our
whispers about too much liquor: this fragile, delicate, electric, even
convinced charmer: this mesmerizing clarity, this memory in-bank, or those
alcoholic lovers: our bodies upon ice, our skis in Japan, our brains in Africa:
at Ethiopian women, at European Actors, flung into believing in destiny: such
remorse for Italy, such attraction those machines, to sense a body breaking out
of itself: those truffles, Agony; this terror, Agony; if but this carnival,
Agony: our days for love, this allocated desire, such chocolate, flowers and
miracles: those inclined women, this group of powerful lovers, at ghosts and
phantoms and glory: (at something deeper, this edification, where children
behave abnormally: that passive nature, our roots uplifted, our passion
hampered: at haphazard wrenches, or treacherous inclination, or so much rage
it’s difficult to play our parts): indeed, about compassion, even longevity, to
realize a deep mechanic. …those
Australian eyes, those Hispanic lips, at tears listening to Bohemian hips: our
raving science, deep mental flame, to arise at something quite cultic: this
fire in minerals, this tension electrocution, our smelly handprints: to die
forever, to live as adrenaline, or drive as dying this industry of heart-ware: our
soft catastrophe, those wishes in others, to live according to promises: such
menacing rumors, as a glint of proofs, while we survive rummaging interior
alleys: such volume in panic, such resistant insistence, to feel it slipping
and strike with vehemence: a soul by essence, this friend to mirrors, or this
challenged, social creature: at anguish and passion, this mix of measures, as
flown into northern snow…. …it
becomes amazing, living with anxieties, something inherited from others: such
cursed beginnings, or balanced survival, to look at something harboring our
guts: or love so sweet, such terror in abandonment, to revive where adoration
flourishes: our protected inheritance, our biblical wisdom, reading through
Seneca: if but beauty, or something esthetic, while headed to an Impressionists
Exhibition: those dandelions smiling, our serious moments, while so enthralled
walls are shattering: our intimate reality, accursed and blessed, while life
becomes segments of joy: this day to attraction, this unforgettable frequency,
as some are so charged: such osmosis, such caiman genetics, or struck for
silence by something magnificent—this dinosaur fire, this alligator’s bite,
this crocodile’s intelligence—as so enchanted, those lemur gazes, such macaque
aggression: as animals running, our dry wilderness, our picture perfect
interior: to dwell in portraits, to catch glimpses, where image seeps into
perception…. I would to live; I could
to perish; where life becomes this exchange: our carrots for roses, our grumbling
stomachs, our gravy, steaks and rice: as inner recipes, or inner impressions,
while so close it’s difficult to shift: at memories so young, at remembrance
through chimes, where reservoirs flood though Jerusalem: our trinket hearts,
our achy intestines, while reborn this evening: such romantic baptism, as to
rejoice our souls, where reality has paused for overwhelmed: those deep
feelings, this deep horizon, at something so intricate to explore: this
maintained existence, this bottle to seas, our answered heart-echoes.
