So
bolted into
devices
our mechanics
suffering
from
inauthenticity.
The
plan was to love you until it stopped hurting.
It
occurred like satori, “Those things never change unless…”
—it
was clear language such epithet laughter, kids found it hilarious—
I’m
waiting on stubborn while afflicted by subtleties: just imagine darkness, those
things we never say, maybe more than what we suggest to say; too smart for liking,
a legacy in Japan, a woman here in the US. We unhinge skies, those deeper
realities, we put it in pills.
It
was uncle or aunt or father. It was mother or cousin or niece. Or it was
daughter and penchants and neglect. I
would find life so suspicious of its inquiries or dreading the big announcement.
Granny
was cooking. We asked why. She said, “You must keep misery full.”
I’m
reading her essence or partaking of magic-sorrow or kneading into subsistence
or insistence or (Taoist) resistance; a man is never smart, this bag of rabies,
while fruitage is perception.
What
luck to have you, one so delicate by liveliness, one hurting to abandon rain;
our dry/humid skies, our moist winds, while snow is falling harder this year.
Such capes they float while becoming heroes or introduced to penalties;
but
Love is nice, to those controlled, where a controller becomes something evil;
to hate reflection, to run at random shattering mirrors, while shards chase
those chaste closets.
I
was reading for crispness. I located polish. I felt each shard churn.
Love
would go lower. Love would employ mythologies. There is truth to every spell.
Indeed,
a lone watcher, a cartoon character, watching a man screaming, “Jerusalem.”
So
raw to have met so indifferent to blacks it was ceremony to a suffering inadequacy;
data banks or old memories or margaritas with extra tequila; we would die our
feelings, to despise non-familiarity, at mental wakes flooded by fireballs; a
grumbling stomach, such fierce nausea, if but he would notice life; arranged
like hoodlums, living like dictators, where something filthy hit his
church-house; total bleak bandages or a need to resurrect after something south
or inherited; life for its rituals, or deliberate disrespect, while we call it
confrontational; more time to analyze while one says this, and one says that;
our motives so glorious, while it becomes sin, for they took pleasure in administering
affliction. (Innocence
is rarely preserved.)
