…aside his ghosts, aside his dreams, as non-casual puzzles—this dead soul, this otiose soul,
those living solutions: at knees but gutted, our intimate graves, plus, such
radical affliction: our ghetto suits, our Redondo Retrievers, or life as
running for ruined: this jewel bleeding, those bars shattered, where shards
take precedence: thereto, our watery screams, our plunged brains, while parents
claim at livers: herewith, those navy blue castles, this principle built upon
sands, or answers that rebuilt said tension: those inner ransoms, this
addictive hybrid, our souls inverted while fire ruptures insanities: those
small curses, that rabid voice, or hell to souls their issues with insolence….
…we
needed friendship, purposed for guillotines, our rolling reigns laughing
courage: those street kittens, those alley cats, our future debaters: and never
satisfied, as doves cry, or demanding to trenchant discomfort: those last
rites, those shivering arteries, and stomachs knotted through words: this shift
in attitude, this secret with prose, or this avenue nurtured by inner graces:
wherefore, this muse leaving, those muses at entrance, or this illusion
terminated with passion: those air-kites, this jelly dripping, to come to
thoughts flickering ants: that one tear, as felt his guts, where tomorrow was
proud to vanish: this left rightness, those right lefties, or those sunrise
pyramids: as eyes leering, or souls peering, a tragic curse our operations….
…it’s
been some time, that deep resistance, abashed by sheer beauty: our jaded
positions, our jaded lives, our jaded mysteries: therein, our worlds perfect
with pain, or laughing looking at our clocks, where Love says something clever:
this dream we live, this grand artificer, or clocks that pleaded permission:
indeed, we laugh, even time by batteries, to capture that glimpse—as written
upon tablets, those nasty deeds, that filmy residue: to vanish with lights, if
but to imagine those actions, while filth follows dirty patches: this nest of
feelings, this hive of emotions, or days alone lacking insights: to hurt with
passion, or die by intuition, or live according to scientific faith: that deep
riddle, that oxymoron, and, plus, we look closer….
I was
sheer actor, repeating sentences, while cautious enough to trust: this bold
caliber, this cold creature, this nasty reality: as ever excited, thereto, as
losing excitement, while torn so deeply it became acidic observation: that
present fire, suffering our eye-thoughts, while steep resentment made it
difficult to gasp: at slimy discourse, or slimy tongues, while listening too
closely: this fine dimension, this inner feature, where reality blends with
phantasmagoria: as virtual this, or apophatic that, while one becomes seriously
reflexive: this chill to ponder, this pond with muscles, or this creature that prevents
intimate growth…
to sing
with pride, while dying through pride, at casual encounters at three weeks by
thoughts: this bad environment, this fossil in guts, or thin to time such
fiberglass: our helmets decorated, our graffiti in scripture, or days to arms
laughing but ruined: such insidious wishes, such insidious cries, or too
insidious to take for innocence: as forsook it Is, or captured in cages, as we walk forward leaving self behind: a
bit too gone, as restructured with grit, where key instincts are dull-scrapes:
this man looking intently, marching with Sade, or whispering for good times:
wherewith, this defeated person, this standing war-sin, while lights flicker
for running dormant: but torn apart, looking to see life, at this countenance
that reaches: but tentacles, but shivering muscles, but pure darkness: to shift
something said, as something meant, while Love remembers but one sentence: at
reborn dungeons, or silent forests, by five debating at casinos….
