it
first came by mysticism or then medieval esoteria or then Hindu Vedas. I was
late at arrival those years dealing at dysfunction while so major to a few
principles. a group of thieves abandoned to pains while forced to act according
to maxims: a similar motif a similar root where two make eye-contact or fly
into defensiveness. such bold luminosity for sorrow does that, it makes a
person radiant. such brushwork to fix something broken while too defensive to receive
accordingly. but mother was Korea, our language un-meshed, our philosophies
breaking rules. I wasn’t free I wasn’t sincere I wasn’t the ideal choice for
marriage. so much futurism. or ever so low. while meeting myriads. an inner
Mojave a behavioral desert while understanding an exile Right Here In
America. (those drums this tribal man so elated so high so manic. but Love
couldn’t know me or I couldn’t trust her while characteristics are ubiquitous—the
fire blazing the moon at war where something crept—at steep currents in such a
flurry as to pass leaving behind ruins. it was never glee it was ever shame
while a man sits at sewers.)
it must be true,
friction begins at birth, unless parents carry the skies; a plate of gizzards
fried while sautéed where it seems too ethnic; such celebrity politics or
social economics while a son might be too far unreceived at dungeons or fortune
or contradiction—where it appears quite gorgeous it seems to have a galloping
circumstance where onlookers fail to discern it’s harder than alchemy. but Love
was interested. she wanted to see its personhood. she needed to meet the spirit
in the man. our audience goals our bulletin passions or too guilty as not to shy
away. a blank stare or dear depression or somewhat a reptilian human.
I would live our industry I would
measure Algiers or come to terms with Africa. I’d try for a bonus or ceramics
or sitting while temperature rises. I painted a picture, it seemed so
evidential, I kept painting this house aside this tree. Love had a ball. I was
falling softly. but of-course there was wine. so found but proven unsteady
where a man has certain instincts: they may not fit in, but he keeps his course,
while others are acting in cadence. our universal training. it has its reasons.
but we lose nuance or individuality, even though, we believe ourselves as such
different creatures.
