…such
casual lusts, brimming its cup, while attracted to remarkable: our silent
evaluation, to give like dying, if but caliber to brains: our favorite drug,
our favorite angst, so inclined to adore with passion: such fighting, such
trapezes, while love became lethal a turnpike: at rehab feelings, so dearly
explosive, a small room, a hidden vestibule, a clever voice: at terrible urges,
while failure is aggressive, where hell participates by living: so diseased, so
contagious, while a fool with shifts: an angry lunatic, a compassionate mate,
so inclined to scream, scratch, and reciprocate: if but our guts, while
attempting to shun, but our 405 is crowded: such attention, to something
mahogany, or pale glitter, where reality seems brown: a gunning planisphere, a
deeper discussion, where two become as Larry Flint: such tragedy and peace,
such a deadly ending, while ears are perking to loudness: such filthy love,
such rebuked love, such seeping into conscienceness: at dawn grumbling, at noon
ecstatic, by night an all out rage-fest: as one feeling rewound, while feeling
proud, where love has insignia: our true inheritance, as ever someone’s first,
so curved at alleys: obeying strategies, flippant with disgusts, while pursuing
hidden captions: to die with helium, to become as rockets, while floored for
ruined begging for one innocent soul: (our minds drifting, our bodies
alienated, at giddy timeslots: a clove, some cognac, while days were wild:
needing a child, but slumped in self, where reality speaks to plurality: so
captive with thoughts, a friend as everything, rebuked, devastated, and
sticking to guns): our blue Jazz, our purple memories, at fleece and gin and
something horribly correct: such attraction, such laughter, while grown souls
curl up, beg Jesus, and continue with courses by actions: so followed, so
provocative, and such a legend: to need Campbell, to die for Campbell, while
losing Campbell: this forcefield, those buoyant cries, where physics echo in
brains: honeymoon passion, plus, three kids, plus, this need to resuscitate
life: those real challenges, to bring day three back, while screaming and
yelling towards mercies: our asthmatic curiosities, those fair dreams, while
love has died, resurrected, and shot death to maintain love: those torn
parallels, those few gifted treasons, where one is afflicted by intoxication….
…so
bewitched, as seeing only fire, to implode towards deliverance: so mental, at
such a clove, conversing but sensing nonchalance: if but to hurt me, if but to
demonstrate distance, while something is screaming: a cloister of feelings, a
remarkable dislocation, where spaces seem as walking pavement: such negative
intimacy, such ruling planets, at Neptune debating with Venus: if but slight
affection, if but resistant thoughts, if but real psychology: where someone is
demented, if not nutty, while a shell is barely glued together: water based,
plus, a tun of glitter, so awestruck, so emoted, as such a fabulous problem: so
cold those nights, rehearsing a fair argument, to happen upon Ms. Chameleon: so
pulled for ruined, so inclined for unsteady, where reality is one big ruse: at
something critical, a particular nuance, hallowed by alliance: so amazing, such
instruction, where a patient soul feels closeness: so sick with existence, so
meditated by existence, while harboring an innocent person: rebuking her name,
shadowing her good deeds, removing her tolerance: so followed for treasure, a
miracle to those cities, while unzipping sensitivities: those damp lakes, those
marshy segments, this clump of sediments: so arid that second, so warm that
second, while reality is not meant to be: such radical flux, such hidden
layers, while goading an improbable insanity: such ante, such curiosity, while
Love is feeling exhausted: this pushing machine, this sea-gulf, or interior
jimpies: sawing at life, confused by life, needing for resisting this element
in life: to quaff a glass; to stare intently; where passion seeps for flooring
injustice….
