We talked
about persistence. This web and licorice. We pouted, became jazzy, and gazed at
pelagic caskets. / Our glasses appeared foggy. Our natures low with tar. Our debate
expiring. / I left for home, placed a mask there, buckled it up and thumped the
gas. / Rain was falling. A coat was required. But I arrived safely. / I thought
about irony. I thought about satire. I addressed an issue internally. / Devoid
of placation. While easiness has a daughter. Our worlds entirely nuanced. / But
bravery is sedition. And sedition is alienation. While re-filming promiscuity.
/ Our easier days. Our Merlot with shrimps. Our curse with permission. While
Cabernet ruined monogamy. / This deep reality. Our guards to ensure. Our souls
rich in mockingbirds. As latent redeemers, unsullied or filthy, our unanimous
uneasiness. / But life speaks roads. Our sunrise government. While currents are
soaring.
I drunk
helium. I burnt my couch. I washed the mark. / Those Bukowski images. Those Virginia
writings. I folded a pillow and sulked. / Sunlight poetry. Groundbreaking poetry.
Or something vying for resonance. / As miracle centaurs—as magazine colors—our hopes
at miracles. / This contending lot. Such extraordinary vates. But our
hinges require bolts. / This blueness. Such raw blueness. Abandoned to opera
blueness. / Those mental dialers. Those exaggerated messages. Or secluded but
unveiled. / Those triangle stories. Those tales about scruples. Such classification!
/ Our blight and fame. Our courage to exist. While behavior becomes habits.
such
terrifying shadows along this gray pavement re-gnawing poison and laughing by
composure—this daylight phoenix those noon bluebirds at crows so steady that
life—to relive ever this second at touch with something healing while angered
his-self those broken fetters—our closure rebounding our screams indefinite at
courage to hold those oceans—as remodeled pantomimes or crazed Armageddon
soldiers while revelation so cold its bright fire.
so
devilish those nights and running into fevers while plucked and sick and dying—our
corner guitars our lively arts sunk into something it shouldn’t be discussed—remote
ideas traveling ideals cringing and music melodious a country squirrel—too relaxed
it came at haven hearts demolished while night seemed day as noon broke—our wires,
our museum prose, such deep radiant our minds—as needing that crevice, as
tiptoeing sociality, if but that second glance—to insist forever, to rebirth a
brilliant acacia, at oak and ivy and vines—those squiggly lines, at a cheetah's
pace, while turtles watch as great sages.
It lingers
when silent. So, we address Mississippi. And we re-map our ambitions. / As
souls determined. Or souls with agendas. While grace comes with experience. /
Mantlepiece antiques. Surprise and amazement. While existence and never!
/ Ill-repute. An entire community. Where something strange is haunting. / Anthills
and dynamite. Bugs and shenanigans. While love is patient with regrets. / A
fantast reality. A phantom diary. By dusky and foggy skies. / reborn to you, giggles
with you, enchanted by lights in you; unraveled majesty, pure sensitivity, as
opposed to loudness; so quiet at times, so unreal at times, and such imaginary
rules at times; but never those valleys, where it was so created, fleeing into
a country storm; a windfall to lose, an impending death to win, as days were so
peaceful; our haunted souls, our flying amazements, accursed or accused—at something
terrible, at something confusing…
