days
create chaos, like thrown away anger—without its clearing, its therapy, its
redemption.
I
grab a notebook, I toss it in frustration, I can’t emphasize it enough—I want
to know core: spells & outbursts, perfection turned to pits, laughter over
being imperfect.
it
hurts more these trails, looking at bobcats, carrying amethyst, feeling too
unexplained.
brothers
are news clippings!
I
see minds come out, amidst zebras, chancing being seen—videotapes of rage,
media coverage for abuse, most lonely those salient a.m. hours.
I
awaken. I feel voltage. I answer the silent spider. I’m itchy, I feel overjoyed,
I think it trickled into happiness. I die, tears wash boards, I’ll be home!
over
modalities, we’ve come to a riddle, what engulfs me in another body?
too
sharp to miss it. I never intrude. it seems crazy how we become snake-dogs.
snippets
of a person, never so close, as so estranged from a person: the love one gives,
the agony one buries, so unisex with her in mind.
it
will not be workable. it is but a feeling. we get so crazy over what passes.
those
curly eyes, those topaz vocals, such a soulprint unknowingly.
benthos
logos
pathos
&
creed.
shelves
are stuffed with screams. true exercise is mind life. when we die, I’ll bear
testimony: to destitution—longsuffering—bearing children anyway.
