It
gets somewhere listening to hissing, there, wondering, about snakes; this field
of bushes where tumbleweed is wild while skies are unclear deserts; so voiced
but unheard so pure but uncured while I walk with you. I’ve lost something but
it was never mine where I claimed kinship; to dye our tears to accumulate our buckets
insomuch as creative fire.
I would fly into nights
such an abject creature while others were to fault: deep dark drains or faucets
following fevers as we assume our art.
It
was you those weary skies while something has replaced us; maybe another
vehicle or maybe an instrument while a chipmunk strums a mandolin; to adore a utensil
by strict utility or sudden aloneness where bleakness rustles; for Love was
insecure plus Love was angry while something pure was distressed; our capable
minds our winning auras where something happens after thirty-five.
Absence becomes
meditation where we fit people in as such to categorize existence; seating and
coughing or mellow into a mood where fire might ignite; or studying Christ at a
deep cleft while misunderstanding our soteriology.
I
was with needs to fathom something so rich it was hard to taste; such purpose
in screams or relaxed and missing life while no matter our gift bags we feel
something missing.
I
knew not duration but it had to peter-out
for
it wasn’t receiving…
indeed,
lioness or sphinx or mongoose—this churn into vacancies this lot of potatoes
while after something such dear cloudberries; it realizes subtleties where a
man spoke in haste while so much is dependent upon what is said; to agitate
something trained where it needs submission it becomes an up the mountain
boulder. It appears quickly like sparks and metals while it vanishes into
wilderness; or something deeper our resonating fires to ponder one so close to
a furnace; but turquoise excitement or terror to feel while most men have a
mixed self-portrait.
—but
you soar like flames so saddened so electric to have mercy or to make spirits
fly—while most can’t see your dangers; a stressed temper a mean terminal but
too polite while poking good humor; to know a man’s frustration or to see his
hesitance while prodding into his shadows—
I retreat into
ambivalence while something is distinguished insomuch as memorized channels. I disown
a piece of me while regathering a piece of me to find some things are
inalienable; those carry-along antennae those algae thoughts where toads are
becoming frogs; but a thought to disappear but a feeling to address facts while
I wonder how we’re both correct. Such strenuous dislikes while remaining
unspoken where a man is hated for not guessing rightly:
those pits and muddy
waters those scorpions and stingers into touchy nebulosity.
