looking was measured. oh delicate
darkness—until its inception.
jumping-jacks align with time—the woman
at the piano:
notebooks
bleeding indecencies;
arrogance creeping
outward; cultural
swagger, or grandiosity;
the box
over skies, the cedarchests around earth
—I wanted the
music, more
videotapes—of
the free prisoner,
to a begging daisy,
to the monk at
his worktable.
many modalities … they tingle for
one … with knowing it’s pain; in
private/crowded vestibules, pure
contradiction, one would play
puppetry
with altered identity; put poets in
nutshells,
jackknife the soil, measure the
nonstop
handicap.
interrogation
begins: is there
evidence for
anguish? significant,
downright bloody
syrup? poured onto
life, existential
pancakes, carried to
the audition?
we’ve poured kerosene
on lemon grass,
grazing ‘til
winter.
opus cobwebs, treacherous
complication,
a need to love her child, a tugging
in
want of kef, molten lies, tears
made acidic,
one breath for change; too much
nausea,
too hard the yoke, sour/sweet
bondage …
taking for granted the medication,
presuming
the balance, sudden into a casual
war—
with mind, gates, purring out
there, roaring
inside.
playing mannequin, or behaving
rightly,
these seem like careers.
mind becomes photoshop, a studio,
filled with stuff, shelves
fraught with gossamer, curtains,
and
sandpapers. mind
is a locomotive, self-disavowed … by
its condition, a hydrant, an
apple with burns, a corner in a
bar, a stranger being nice, we
know what comes with this.
