Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Hours By Recovery (Life Is By Staircases)


it was absorbed ability or actors at dialogue while one was digging. it became intimate cables or distance or sensing some are good people. such a feeling such dear relief as roads cross fretting. the call of emotion while stoic-faced where insides are producing sweat—to calm down to sense souls while mystics hit harder. but a strong claim, into such economy, those streets into Louisiana:

streetcars, sanctions, unspoken rules into realms while overwhelmingly righteous. to ensure absence to visit hospitals or to sign the wrong line: such harmless banality such frank charity while giving is an internal rubric. (it was difficult or drastic where it has origin: so crucial, such concrete skies, such watery dirt made mud such abandoned soil); a leaf so intimate while tracing veins so

valid on a Sunday. hill or mind-work accursed or angelized such sweet vinegar to have loved to have adored with one managing his insanity or a baby so young or a mother so resistant with a friend counting on failure. our chance to pledge allegiance our flag so permanent where others envy our devastation; such academic jealousy, such camera jousting, such hebetating habits—as

removed from resurrection such need for intensity our condemnation our campaign our careless determination; if but a greeting if but hands if but penetration—while dying is taboo it becomes wide spread as to adopt many aged beliefs: as granny cringes or grandpa is incredulous or a mystic is creative insouciance: not as nonchalance but happiness in a realm having concerns: the resting

elbow, those tender ligaments, or laughing at some precocious child; our casted categories our first chairwoman         
such trees in our forests.

the first person as so naïve while digging into esoteria.

as a soul deceiving reflection such leathery words or casual lectures where something too legal is taking place; our files, while they know, where it’s a riddle we adore. to watchword an emotion to approach while watching or to comment, such a riddle, on a spirit’s openness.

to react to fluidity while unaware such to account
for humans becoming robots. so occupied a place they keep us while minds must obey rules;
an office with screams a coffin with dust-mites or
a fret over location; moving trains both
into or around childhood carriages or life’s grander
lemon.
those secure series those obstinate
secrets while so concerned those literal itchy souls. most spiritual an interior ghost at fragments if but to understand portions. it slips grasps as it was just decoded or an increment into a thought without justification:
but an owner of humans by sheer decision as acquiescing or losing control where such is onset dementia.
our days recovering such dear depression
where towers dispense fogginess.  

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...