The
wall is agenda or brier-flames into gentle disjunction. But a signal as
borders, but a bashful alienation, while Love might say, He’s morbid!
Such stress to mature
while feeling discomfort where we make many excuses; but ducks smile that way
or geese smell that way while the park is squirrely.
So endless so many years while father was absent; this
being this feather this donor; but mother so unstable even violent while many
can’t fathom such reality; countless skies or chapel scars but a forbidden
novel—those furious sympathies while a man feels pitiful or days even years
repenting by genetics!
I
misknew disaster. I misused matches. I became this creature.
By
cryptic designation or radical ravings where octopus are stalking churches;
these inadequate words, these fornicating words, our priests and nuns and
screams; to lose existence as gaining existence where one must deprive in order
to transcend existence.
I
met scholars those dreamers while writing upon napkins.
I
was a student running from hardknocks or abandoned to a mind enduring-strangers.
Those
internal artists this internal theory if but to feel completely strange; such
mandatory existence where it never breaks free insomuch as connected stressing
our jungle.
Those
tables or lights as mocking or commending sourly:
so
malignant at moments so sensitive at times or so benign in cosmos; this fire
evolving this dear philosophic to have adored or died or lived.
I
passed a millpond and gazed at a reflection and met an image I do not know;
this bedroom stranger this mirrored judge or this inhome personality; my
treasure-trove while wrestling intimacy while one might adjure one afore
anxieties; this talkative floor those denigrating memories or this appetite for
deliverance; but such sins such secular winds as free-thinkers going astray—
temblors or symphonies to crochet a
soulquake while unknit and barefoot.
—those memory tempos those memory
temperaments at strain by consideration; those linchpins so tampered through
nights, while weeds are sprouting upon clouds—
Those gardens unpruned
such wildness such life at topaz lakes; such rich vinegar such sweet violence
or pure sugar and saffron; those twilight disasters this windbreaking shadow
while confrontation reveals us to self.
