Pure
delusion. Alone and laughing. An ear those rooms. / To witness decomposition.
To love a mad illusion. Or to suppress angry confusion. / Something
conventional—has lost coercion—we now flights. / Those arms re-reaching. This
inner suspicion. While true friendship honesties. / Our guts distinguished. Our
rights but cotton. At granny so senseless. / Those cute discretions. A wind to
curtains. While needing you. / That brave person. While life is purely
unfriendly. / Soft supple signs. A person feeling good—over something cruel. /
As never my confidant. As never my ace. But more an infection. / This man that
didn’t. This woman that couldn’t. Our business so theology. — As dead but
afire. Or alive but lying. Or winning for ignoring. / Those dreams fevered.
This cussing feeling blasé. But I heard a feeling. / This whisper gently. This
glass woofing. Our anxieties with presents. / So into an emotion. So caught at
green lights. While horns are buzzing. / This day-scream oblivious. This
magnificent button. At red ivies. / Our coupon detachments. Our free flesh. Our
egos adrift with reason.
I
fight indifference. It kills essence. In a world ungentle. / To feel a
butterfly. Or taste understanding. Where realness aims to suggest. / This tiny
bug. This enormous flood. While moving into currents. / A crazed beauty. Our
guppies at tender palms. Book odors wafting. / So into laugher—nonchalance—and
playful compeering. / Those deeper thoughts. Where one is hated. Plus, one is
susceptible. / So privileged to be.
So stern an in crowd. To utter love daily. / While existence is
education. Where education is realism. Where realism is attic-physics. / Those
low chakras. Those low bodies. While it felt like winning.
But
two at doors. Two at beginnings. Or two overly adrenaline. / As opposed to
vandalism. Where good pain is good feelings. / Indeed, a chuckle. Our naïve
insights. Where no one quite cares. / That odd indifference. While something
should hurt. But it feels natural. / This sick man. These travesty deeds. Our
terrific intentions. / To live in shadows. To remain brain cursed. While vain
and feeling excited. / I must retreat. Into something beautiful. Like one tear
to palms…. —
our
whisper angers. Our efforts like mud. While in earnest such usury.
A
grand or two. Our sexual prowess. While clamped for another’s eyes. / Such
crazed ruins. Such beautiful valleys. Our entire lives pleasing father. / Or
better so. A secret revealed. For brains are hard to relent. / Those incredible
needs. If but a notice. If but to win one time this existence. / Our intriguing
spirits. This intriguing island. As tried so hard and caught a case. / Indeed,
a deep misery. As feeling peeved. But seriously!
I
looked today. At a different caliber. Where fruition, kids, and longevity
rules. / As never for disgusts. As never a scar. Even those sounds. / Our
muffled beliefs. Our muffler hearts. Our valves and oils and screams. / Indeed.
And here’s a secret. Everyday that echelon. / This ghetto baby; those ghetto
rites. So torn. So deceased. And tired a bit.
To
want with vehemence. To dance deliberately. To think this social maze. /
Looking but withdrawn; accordingly, and alive. While deeper respects are harder
to celebrate. / This rich chasm. This realized inception. While too appropriate
this fire. / Getting too close. Remaining silent. As we must meet eyes!
