there’s one in
there, the grandiose creature, much flypaper on the wall. it describes us in
code, can’t shed flesh, can’t acquiesce to flesh, can’t indulge flesh—flesh,
nonetheless. she wore denims, a white blouse, and turquoise Puma’s. we knew
each other, never met before, we clicked like old lovers. the grandiose
creature, filled with mania and meds. maybe I speak by confirmation, maybe
spirit is overt but subtle. maybe I need to have an experience.
running through meadows, lying down
by creeks, these are dreams. so sexy for me, so evolved in essence, tender with
hell rising.
life could be gentle, if we make it
such, it can be horrible, if uncareful, it will be mixed with universals.
how to unsee? what was unsaid? how
have we checked one another? the grandiose creature, yearns to be excited, to
banter, to jest and play and laugh. as addicted to each other, slanted by
presence, sadness when absent. much into another’s palms. more into our bodies.
knowing we help each other … to gather grapes, to make wine, to ballet … as
assured in us, like absolution, so religious, like its absolute, never with
doubt. why is it so? they won’t tell us.
I
try to figure it out, but I would like confirmation.
granny is here, at the table, I see
her in memory. she has grace. she followed the rules. she transcended.
the grandiose
creature, they see differently, life might give a piece of freedom. delicate in
temperament, internally agile, an aglet over impulses, impulsive, nonetheless.
bogged down in perceptions, sensitive to conceptions, infused, connected,
swarming inner operations. the
grandiose creature, as one may presume, tries to balance, if to appear in time,
if to seal the vortex.
