hours
to its grave-house or measures by glass while I throw sawdust. minds in you so
unstable in you or affected by mood patterns. the woman looks golden as to
imagine indecency while a man ignores his sensories. so pale at times such
color in affliction where a woman is nervous; gestures seem imposing, words are
under management, some need less aggression: to behave in her thoughts, while
green grass is passivity, so filled with perfect alienation: a stranger inside
a captain inside while a man is held in contempt—those assumptions those
comparisons while one mathematician is never enough. I watch as something is
expressive so trapped so dishonest where a sentence or two would make it
magical. so much to learn such proximity while often we laugh. so fuddled while
the past is speaking it forbids normality: our flesh by anthropology so explained
where this isn’t feasible enough. but a dear darling so rough with insistence
as articulating a mestizo’s strength, passion, with its alienation. so
close we die or so distant we die while dying seems our linking thread. I forgot
to sing. I unlaced contempt. I imagine we need transparency. so filled with cayenne
while a man keeps sneezing where days are electrical wires: to see his face as
a frabjous possibility while actuality speaks to various traumas.
I was thinking
with eternal in mind, it became apparent this is a desperate carnival:
the circus is filled, batteries are charged, we enjoy a dozen rides.
