At a risk to sanity, perception of souls, did it all
to please a different group.
Abandoned to oxygen, flamboyant radiance, aching
aesthetics—her favor in beauty, her southern wilderness, her northern forests.
To have loved at unawares, to have found a mystic, so
drawn to another world.
Like resistance is good, or flattery is bad, at a
miracle in you.
Those brief moments, to learn existence, with fever
chasing us.
By debt to have warning, by dice to have luck, by
action to capture existence.
Breaking armchairs, living a philosophic, hesitant to
sustain utilitarianism.
America has a dream, Africa has a scream, Jerusalem
offers answers.
An armoire for a magician, by memory of a deadman,
infused into a protegee;
seated
alone is a small cactus filled with thorns, most call
it violent; a slight deviation.
Back to a table, gambling for freedom, to have wished
it in riches; back to knees, wrestling an artificial gambit, pathos &
dignity.
To touch a glimpse, to see a riddle, to realize brains
have an agenda; snow-quakes, helm-oxygen, at a prow looking across seas—if seeing
Logos, filled with sobriety, one might believe us.
Else, a fantast to a guillotine, a heretic, life is
exegetical.
By tempo of a harp, entering Ethiopia, said—this is
ambition, this is love.
Cathedral eyes, kettle lips, tepee spirit;
with death chasing,
from cradle to grave.
