those
in there as diverse creatures as ancestors; to have died in lakes to have
leaped from quicksand so blue in October. those blocks they obstruct us while
it means too much such passage; by flame to have suffered those eyes in blood
those questions so pure. to live as cargo or jettisoned once emptied as one so
sociopathic—such rubies in essence so much tar that season while wild with
wickedness. so purged it’s unbelievable while others are preaching their
straight line; to have trespassed such a woman to have discounted her democracy
where one is left with something inexcusable. (don’t drag demons don’t dredge
up old ghosts, for a person will hate you!) we need our images our songs our
wings where clipped is rage or eyes are eggshells so much a guitar disputing
vengeance; an ocean apart while holding strings where most anyone may tug them.
(I have an issue it revolves around the whole person, if never is included
(never faithful), how will you do it now?) such antics they disgrace life as
order comes by strength; so lost in you so torn in you so forgotten by life. to
have remedy to have destination where memories always desire soothing. so much
calamity, such rearing dysfunction, with little to no remorse.)
it’s subtle or it isn’t believed
while one needs to dislike us. too much stock too much gallop too much
wilderness. a person runs a risk, in all those pianos, where smartness becomes
a repellant. one searches if but for embrace where it comes later in life. (she
watches, both in sequence, while ruthless beneath the sea bottom.) so regathered
so acute while needing something one delivers: such swimming suspicion, such
unrelenting hereness, where we realize such raw, petrifying differences.
