sublime
anguish, does Pain know my name, is mother alright? I thought of a person, I was
dying inside, granny gave me strength. I have a daughter, most never count the
blessing, it’s time to be men. enough of those roses, trekking a tulip trail,
laughing, all alone—what might be funny, not to hurt, but the way we treat each
other—the agony we give, the aggression in silence, the hate we give; so great
a windfall, a person I’ll never touch, a problem inside of expectations—the beauty
of the valley, the coyote and his guitar, the clown and his bottle; a miracle, Old Friend, a mighty hand, like giggling, for it felt good. a daily routine, it
will soon change, I’m ghost, in a Ghost, like mini me. so much dolor, Doctor,
it kills, Doctor, I ride like an old cowboy; like an Indian, tribal and mad,
such fierce bodily secrets; a damn manikin, a damn dream, like a break through
to be alive; mother was good, mother was bad, I love mother; a sicker man, a
sicker scream, like railing on trains. it was living to die, it was death to
live, I give a righteous blow to America. sweet iron, sweeter alchemy, a few
drops too many. inside glass, tossing spears, but it hurt to hear so many
compliments; it isn’t the mad scream, it doesn’t like many people, it doesn’t
praise blankness. so much a proud vessel, happy for your new life, may God
bless you! so much a fission inside, a breakage inside, so damn alert. father
knew, he never told, this is my one complaint: not for absence, not for
obliteration, and not for never coming back. I knew her, we battled, I lived!
it’s so blessed these corners, it’s so on point this mountain, to hold tablets,
I break a calve, I laugh and feel goodness.
