the steel zone the
phone lyric so coarse so stern while too serious; our bluer skies our turquoise
seas, as a man swimming into fury; the land is gray the fields are orange into
a horizon.
Love was sick so
hurt those years dangling from wires. such fruit such pain as thunder might
hit. (I adored a queen as nonproof a queen so explosive a scream; foundational
problems early blueprint problems such social/existential problems. too go
psychoanalytic to stream through travesties where a person huddles in a corner—crying
or wailing, gripped in a bundle, rocking softly.) I have loved like winning it
felt fantastic so cut inside so dreary, longs nights! it was her eyes her body
a little thin woman; she laughed once it looked incredible but Love was too
much an easy challenge. so floret those small buds or a gigantic jamesia—upon sodium
lips. (I arrange in a coma it was morning time we blazed as madmen. such rays
in rockets such walls stripped while frantic to repaint them. so much a hold so
disoriented while this goes back to adolescence. those signs we ignore or
remaining uneducated while a son had it just as a daughter experienced it.)
those miles in me
that pavement in me to sense birds floating with human heads. a half day in his
rearview a vandal in his passenger seat or a deadman like self in his future.
one asks, “Why death or why so emphatic or why a high tone?” indeed, so filthy
so inquisitive while is sounds like delusion in self. our immortal chase as
been there so long while a woman might say, “You too damn gone.” such remedies like
escaping you or holding such so close to inadvertently. (she had a way about
her. we were so injected. we’d
talk smack, laugh,
or feel affronted.) those pale-brown souls,
those graves in
purple. a man attracted to frozen skies or happenstance so glorious or death
those ivory women.
such cultural
differences, so much to regret them where a man is sick in his caprice.
