by
waves in cries seated at his table – so received in rawness a book hit
fire – a young fate in an often situation while too many walls spell isolation.
a gut sentence a bar at mirrors most have never seen self. a bladder burning
over another glass at much silence. so tender into a center dynasty while fever
churns in an empty river. so much with Egypt or trekking Cush or looking at
gnawed bones. too sectioned in demolition such raving in bottom crevices as
bled dry trying to repent. sold a scream peeking behind essence by far a
diamond at her choices. the city is filled with gods those oceans bleeding
while goddesses are playing guitars. an infatuated soul a drinking soul while
we get nice at the campfire. so warm so sticky such release to feel abandoned. I
admire where it’s stable where gentility is a rule while every person feels
received. a cure for minds a remedy for desolation it sounds easy. so often at
celebration so cursed for faith where suffering is written as necessary. but
what if, if never but pain, would each grow into capacity? oh it would hurt so
surface where literature would cough or drown or chunk up its ghost. the
country is frowning those backwoods are grieving while anything we love is
wrestling; to sense our bowels to reread our intestines with too many damn
mistakes. I look indifferent I feel indebted while music is softer lately. too
low to articulate it seems flat with misery it seems I’m missing my ingredients.
I loved her, I thought saving me, where I would save her. but she was powerful.
her stock was fluid. her IRA account was spirit. but a remedy for me, as all
for me, as if I would live like that. so close to adoring you so far from
hating you while I realize we have addictions. every second every wave every
cave every slave, where it was good to lose every strong-clamp.
