I have a scream in a bucket, was
vomiting all-night, was sick with the industry.
genetic memories, in the trenches,
open it like Jesus, the third-eye deluxe.
pinched those sights, tortured
those grays, just putting it together—we must ask of our importance. the
forbidden love, the big muscle mind, the chaotic spell, the woman would hate
his guts. he was sick, he needed her thrust, her diamond, her mystique.
like mobile time, the helicopter headed
to Philadelphia, from there to Vegas, from Vegas to California. loved her so
much, couldn’t have her, or having was to feign its persistence. it’s just a
smile. it’s just hips. it’s just sexual—as it destroys the mind.
removable walls. falling frenzies.
borderline high waves. the beauty was brilliant, radiant, rare, too much to
sustain.
a space inside, keeping the
kilometer mind, asking one clear question: When can we depend on it?
the electric wire, the trenches, the
space inside, the feeling inside, dripping wisdom. as an immortal creature—so sensitive—if
a soul goes through hell, How long should he repent—before mercy ensues?
as living souls, more unsaid than
mentioned, faces and eyes, minds on pavement, K-9s running with messages.
the calamity is the unrest—they know
the situation, the ghosts … but I haven’t done much, aside for hearing my
community, figuring her intention, where sacrifice means nothing in the face of
research. the hit squad, the mathematics, the dialogue journey—if they heard it—we’d
know the dozen pawns! oh I get to feeling it deeper. granny would say things, I
would listen, momma would refute her words – now I see things, I know things,
God trained her.
