I thought
about aggression those subtle silent scissors or troublesome temperaments; or
those haunting tree rings:
Antagonist,
never let
Go,
never be the house-
Hold
perfect soil and
Ideal
climate, be a love
That
does not know… (The Green Ray, Corina Copp p.89)
…to
churn a little to reinvestigate feelings or to sense something too tragic to
divulge; but life is beautiful and deaths are grasshoppers while awareness belittles
something sacred; at more music or feral fires where we rescue our aches: those
days becoming normal ablations where silly time is so vindictive; such
underpainting those eyes as valence or such personality unchartered: for
When
I was a little cut
I thought
I wanted cancelling
lotion,
syrup, Percocet
to extinguish
my sting
I thought
I wanted fire
to scorch
my vile shape
or scientific
hands
to smother
me in place
But as
I made my way
in misery
and pain
my heart
changed her direction
in place
of hate self-loved
Now I
am a happy hurt
A cheerful
scissor sliding
I press
the door to send the gas
I ask
them for their papers
I cut
their paper legs off
As they
advance in rows
I lacerate
their entry path
on their
way from Mexico (Marine, Connie Scozzaro p. 11)
but
a short sanctity but a night of diamonds or realist laws losing meaning; to
hear at sanctity in blossoms or to un-sing an unsung sentiment; those evenings
eating such silence where adults fill silence for but anything but silence; our
loud silence peering at our minds reversed in something acing its penalties; to
exist as freedom so bold for those things as they mean so much: a treasured ink-pen
or a favorite pillow or first to jump in the shower.
