grains are rough,
becoming wheat, be careful on the yeast—a miracle seed, a problemed adolescent,
gunning the throttle, giggling, hair in the winds; those feeling adult, those
feeling inadequate, living fast breaks monotony. much rain in seasons, many
broken appliances, maybe ham for lunch—those eyes, staring at chains,
unfastened, falling, at terror to tell Jesus. couldn’t believe stories, couldn’t
shake images, stuck, as it were, in shattering perceptions—born an absolutist, learned
as a fundamentalist, beyond religion, running through fields, amazed by
California sugarcane. a bucket of worms, a new fishing pole, it requires
patience, alternatives, re-gauging, re-channeling, persuading. waters made
deeper, swimming for years, up for breath, faced by a killer whale—as crazed
inside, a man with plenty of fireworks, if to plead like loving aside those
regions—more blues in leniency, less fire in unforgiveness, got yellow in never
asserting my needs. mountains at the front, plyers at the end, an engine
desiring to be rebuilt—like ground-up, the edifice is furious, the body is a
building—drowning in images, to beg the best in pain, assuming she loves like Intensity—by
an avalanche, by many acres, survival of the fittest, eating apricots; like an
acorn, so stubborn, warring to do things a certain way—to feel our warmth, to
picture our pride, if a lioness desires a lion.