out the safehouse
running through countryside too hectic to expect freedom. thought about love, a
fiery locomotive, if to have what I desire. bleeding green wilderness, an
intense naïveté, so much social déjàvu. a consistent hive, eating honey, like
dew on my rug. so biblical so much involved like vampires swooping through
darkness or lioness hunting across terrain—pitch black purple sold to hyenas as
left to decide in an instance. leave it to banshees, gargoyles, witches—so frightened
so electric if dying I must return. no more those walls, a new set of walls,
plus, a building in my living room. many couldn’t fathom, they never knew, so
tender it’s deadly.
most will need
until satiated crossing cities to sin; many will ache so close seeing isn’t
difficult.
so swift like a
nun to a sickly. so firm in God like a bishop in Latin America.
got secrets,
Jesus, like running, Jesus, like a flight I must vanish, Jesus.
too much too
little we know by a small space. a petit scream in a royal yard as one gunning
to free mentals. a scarf made of silk a shirt made of cotton a man running to
what destroys him.
we miss a fact, a
human is susceptible, where many are looking for absolute reason. most
can’t carry logic, its sad reality, it’s too damn painful. [but] when suffering
kicks in, if one is lucky, one will churn in logic. a thought, a claim, based
in authority, I imagine resistance, cleaving to its turmoil, pleading something
to change. if so, if passionate response, one might vanish—for pain has
dissipated—we need contradiction!
I feel so guilty. I
know we keep company. I revamped an interior call center. those lines are
changed, those dialers are unbled, I look instead of chasing; nonetheless,
chasing, those streams, into a jungle—panther eyes, green forgiveness, many
have much more to feel.
