Wednesday, January 1, 2020

Fossil Hominids


so
born to expire those in-between ventures as cursed or abused or both.

such delicate frailty so dependent upon others as our mental estates:

those forward eyes those forward grins or determined where acting looks normal; but living souls so vexed such volume so undervalued.

such intimate details with angst as ruler where a man never speaks his ideals; this market of failures that indistinct woman or this hostile blurry office; at years but anxieties so fragile upon a star where rightness appeared insignificant; to have softer whispers at mind-stated chaos such furious fire; so close to speaking if but to listen boldly while something ingenious has run out of ink; this written story this public agora or worse a man’s life becomes allegory.

such hospitalizations
at fair blue treason
but needing you in order to survive;

this major husk this tussock of atmosphere at something removed but presence; an itty bitty spider crawling into existence while growing frantically; as we become our habits so fixated upon perception where image is more important than God; our deeper frailties our weakest moments while we must adjust to our behaviors; where Pain in watching while Agony is pruning in such a rush to hush our ocean; to taste sweat upon a winter morning to adventure into excruciating heat; wherefore, this tiny spark as it becomes raging skies at such creative majesty.

we are softer creatures but harassed by happenstance or too raw to socialize; our needs for others our holy abandonments while walking tradition; where God is amoral even anti-ethics while we are held to higher behaviors; it becomes irrational attempting exclusivity or so proud to run into our habitats; at persons with deep fractures as needing pure objectification where feminists are furious but understanding; this deadzone or this firewall while insincerity punctured software; such isolated forgiveness or this interior negotiation while God is perceived as imaginary.

Such fragile skies such violin clouds where tenuous frustration aches longer; our insubstantial winnings to have dear with passion while something wasn’t so enchanting. By courage to fly, by wilderness to feel pressure, where resistance becomes instrumental; as one congratulates that one has a ghost where its piano is speaking harbingers.

I’d Save The Reader Years

    The beat becomes sickness. A long crucible—a drilling ecstasy. I was losing focus, feeling forbidden, if to self, if to mirrors. So curs...