…it
enthralls adolescence; it simmers at adult-life; it becomes doctrine and tenets
and experience with wings: this dying agony, this writing dynasty, to arrange
for passion’s arrival: this rich mind, this gravity soul, to remote his kef—as
longing maniacs, acting with Obama, at love and war and satiation with
Michelle: our soft tempos, our delighted savagery, while pops listens lost for
clues: at each incomplete sentence, where wolves gather, so free, so
in-dungeon’d, while breath seems unimportant: this claimant excuse, this
tyrannical cosmos, at blows and deaths and living fire: those remote islands,
this separatist existence, while oneness is desired earnestly: thither, our
cure, and, thither, our cries, which abuses our long-range—as wrangling
creatures, coming for to conquer, imposing our will’s at agonies with Nietzsche—those flaming rainbows, this
losing with conscienceness, those gray, deeply darkened ambitions: this feud in
women, this sexual power, while fretting those coming galaxies—at years and
turmoil, at tracks and road courage, at trails and alleys: to squat and die, to
arise with anguish, at frittered rescues: our slamming doors, our racy
comments, our inconsequential nonchalance: if but that dream, to realize
ostracism, to invest in retrieval, to win something detrimental: those brochure
eyes, those brooches as swans, or this demigod complex: at stations guarding
profanity; at barricades guarding dementia; or more, at home with this interior
persona: those rolling eyes, this revving curse, while so blessed to endure
resurrection: those keepsakes, Love; this reviving voice, Love; or something so
sacred and so elated and devastating existence: as love comes quickly, and
thieves run fast, while Love is lost and ready for ghostly battles: at courage
but shrewd, at pleasure but present, while some believe in tender cultivation:
indeed, this deep pain, this lonely feeling, where certain words erase our
trepidation: as living monologues, or treasured dialogues, to catch passion
with a leering eye: to avoid damages, or to live deliberately, at chorus and
play and deep lighted ambition—those few feelings, determining insights, while
many are calling men, Dogs: to
forsake participation, to ignore anticipation, and to live dying as something
absent and abstract and indifferent to those tetras cries: this winded fool,
this lingering hope, this dark, mysterious aura: to glow at seconds, to
surprise naysayers, to strike with pure interior: as an idyllic charmer, or an
idealist proponent, at premise for premise and holding those conclusions:
unless by dance, such redeeming input, where erasers must be sought for
advice…. …never such sunshine, and
never such blatant agreement, where Jesus is forced to appear: this slight
riddle, our Christian Hearts, But Jesus
is wrong: indeed, with jest, indeed, with conflict, but all for sameness a
deep complaint: those years those eyes, those cries those dungeons, this lot
this lake—as built for rebuilt, or running for captured, but times are lethal,
Love: this hell we encourage, while asking personal questions, and blinded with
poets by deep delusion: our Don Quixote, our endless Cinderella, or rebukes for
loving adventures: our dry-lands, our barren soil, while this is like that: our
rages over life, our tyranny with friends, our children learning to acclimate:
at climate confetti, to drift but a bit, where abstracts snatched his
behaviors: at mental ghosts, at mental women, at a daughter too far to reach:
such pride in havoc, such pirates and curses, such dedication to systematically
obliterate mankind: but Love is different, and Love is living, and peers are
watching: this coming fever, those agonizing tests, this college expression: to
ask questions, to search for moreness or
whatness or thatness—this quasi-grave, those quasi-answers, or such deep
disappointment: those hypnotic realities, those few gentlemen, while envied for your inheritance: (they think money,
this Ha-Laugh, as one destined to
repeat for failing to see): our feudal lives, born during war, our testosterone
and estrogen offbeat—while aggressive and passive and mixed and destined and
walls and breakage—Our Lives...!
