we
speak our hands such abandoned babies as to storm into winds—those unbent
wrenches or spokes in tires while steel or unborn. so detached from self so
estranged such sweetness in his curse! by gateways such a fierce creature but
life is tender brutality: wedgewood faces such ripe humidity or lately kissing
concrete; those churches down there our secrets from omniscience or plans to
rethread America. by integrationist King or segregationist Malcolm, where
existence is not determined by a Constitution! however, such hymns so soft
while disappearing but unable to become a bishop. argent lines or jasmine
feelings while Love ached by imagination; for to live truth is devastating as
most are unclean; such cantankerous ploys while so absent where it felt like sorcery.
too
many hives or too many codes while fever soon erupted—the man can’t be life nor
granted love if but to admit our crimes; a livid mistake those years to prison
while we sense something ironic: our cold wilderness our tainted affections
where one wanders in haste.
some
are clever. they are soon replaced. where others are damned to wretchedness.
such
antiphons or liturgies where we train children to avoid people like us.
so
boxed with acceptance so unboxed with majesty or trapped in either direction! the fount drips its moist with humidity the
air is reminiscent. but a man is stoic as he carries another where he requires
deeper excavation; while members suggest in this land of remorse that living
heals those broken skies. such insects in grass such clumps of existence while
a person loves, looks over, where Love is in puddles. damn! to feel a memory, to die while letting
life, where one needs to say, “Guard your everything!” such a puzzle where we need particulars or
we wish for others the gift in us. it can’t be taught or it sprinkles by
osmosis where its inheritance requires several jagged crosses.
(I
would save you from this!)
