I
sip and get lost; I drive Infinity;
this pint, this apparition: to enjoy existence, though trenchant with despairs,
at laughs over gravel infractions: this inner taste, or mental wastelands, or
damaged but revived: our courage, Heart-fire, our dreams, Heart-capture, if but
to lose while winning. …it comes with
passion, it revs through insanity, this vague and absent reality: if but to gut
pain, to extract rain, while abandoned to something normal: those caged eyes,
this caged freedom, at stars this inner giggle: our privileged empires, our
Rihanna fantasies, or lost for forbidden: this winter glass, those frigid
barbwires, or this warm crevice: those targeted germs, this market of worms,
our newfound delicacies: if but to exist, flippant but insane, or sane but
flippant: that loud record, this cursed habit, while granny lied for years….
I’m
holding back, and it means nothing, where society has ruled with venom: this
small galaxy, this infamous world, at ends tying glory: to grit with pains, to
courage with chains, at such unnecessary shame: that pristine person, as never
a flaw, while attitude proves delicacies: our pressures, Love, at miraculous
deception, where persons feel exonerated: this tricky existence, where anything
in normal, while psychologists pose as Apologists: our cries for reality, this
pile of dung, where relativism has gained renown: that do all world, those low
standards, or this reaching low chakra: our mothers to nonsense, this preacher
to nonsense, or years screaming at something selfish: that infant prodigy,
those infant wits, or this incredible loser screaming, Mine.
Our
lakes are scribbling; our dives are remorseful; and still, pursuing similar
behaviors: our maladaptive genes, our genetic wars, while game re-mimics a blackened eye: as bodies deteriorate, where mirrors
are less forgiving, while souls must retreat: those broken vibes, this
forbidden soul, as realized this descent: those treacherous beaut(s), as losing
appeal, to realize upon marriage: or insidious men, where father was stern, to
happen upon conscienceness: our eyes, Glory, this fixture, Glory, or plagued
where thoughts have established something sinister: this rabid soul, those
fretted outlaws, at deep Western battles.
…it
was death’s call, this Asiatic pit-stop, this universal Europe: to die for
romance, to do fairly well, and lose as one smiles in pregnancy: those cryptic
cries, those cryptic, demon souls, as so alive he missed myriads: that free-spirit,
this free-spirit, as never one honest sentence: this heaving insanity, this
eternal battle, while too deceased to revive: akin to bad-luck, this fist full
of cash, where reality pushes something psychotic: but never for hatred, but
decent for trial, where truths may speak at disasters: this picture laughing,
this daughter needing uncles, or more, this daughter needing clarity: as
exaggerated purely, or calamity a first cousin, to step this or that: to fit guts, to laugh hardily, while good
out-forbids this luxurious passion: where mother is champ, singing with little
remorse, and dying for new witnesses….
…it
felt for goodness those days, while sleeping upon humans, to expect a good
person: this fool in me, this stereotypical cry, this reverse while forwarded a
curse: that need for porn havens, that one to see reality, while this fool
slept: to mistreat, and scam harder, while another is forced to behave as a
gentleman: that dark enterprise, those Asian outcomes, where Europeans rejected
such majesty: our guts by tornadoes, this moon as livid, while another seems
cursed: to exclaim passions, while sharing in semen, where another is feeling
terrific: this small curse, this intimate realism, while in actuality, monogamy
is manmadeL….
