the mind to its fight, the poem to
its audience, the heart struck by deconstruction.
connecting through cosmos,
reimagined in a song, unsung, gazing into the horizon.
sudden voltage, the concentrator’s
identity, vibrations idled lowly.
—time was vicious, moments as the
underground lizard, inducted into the grandfather’s curse—
I said by Love, stark insistence, content
dangling inside of a coming epiphany.
one dying for
passions, eyes made of onions,
feelings made of rice, each grain running to build a picture.
the flame-broiled presence. at
moments, warding off the inner deceiver—the resistance against crude honesty,
unless … incurring too much strife, enough struggle.
the calmness has been dissected too
often. it seems self-fulfilling, uncomfortably arbitrary.
memories fleeing, transformed, self
at subtle absence.
—at steps steep, forest
undergrowth, a poet might sit with thoughts.
something warns, and rightly
suggested—
the mental adventure, feelings that
torture, days sensing a tarantula,
instincts, and genetic trapdoors.
