I looked, a tear
shy, such hip-bones—the definition or the child or pagan screams; so re-cursed
so reversed such mentality is aesthetic; the beauty in you the senses in us to
sit so calmly while the world can’t matter; to adore her to adore children or
to a miss-fate twenty years later. such grace in a sentence, while I must
admit, to arrive in speech is a beating drum. those champaign regions those
nights at conversation those moments where one responds through reflection. (I
admire you I think fondly of you, as creatures with dinosaur genetics. so sweet
when it started but love was plural as to see one seated or lying in stillness,
where she looked too worried. it hurts a heart while so affected into something
that dies; so efficacious so much a memory while some have so much to offer. I watch
our tentacles or centipede legs while we perish looking so ridiculous; to find
your face to realize the why — to where humans exhaust love: such kids such
spouses such careers into a glass. to know for hatred to know for pain — where a
daughter says, “Why? — I thought you didn’t want me.” so messed up inside such
realization such old orientation — those wars such poison-grass while we cringe
to understand certain realities.) over a screwdriver or waiting to pass a glass
or not even if death wasn’t sweet deliverance — those avenues such bleach to
flesh or a big booming afro; so sufferable or so insolvent by mime art by
religious attraction, while I’ll confess, a dear secret: people need something
holy — be it for God or human! I see a funeral so endearing while work is
unfinished — these inner weeds those tumble-deserts while everyone is enraged at
the Aviator: our pagan lusts, our private asylums, or our sewer behaviors;
indeed, such ruthless anger, as to discuss something afield, but it hurts, it’s
spatial, it belongs to something therapeutic. (the building is floating, escape
is teal illusion, so much to fathom you religiously — as it couldn’t it wouldn’t,
damn it hurts!)
