I get to soul so metaphysical so much ousia—those dark cavalier eyes. the substance of the Ghost the election we lost the grave we sing. so mad such a hassle so blatant such insolence. by intuition or Danish Law at the temple in Rome. so lasting those minerals where it was discovered of time.
I fret the bass or
a cello while Love was opera—those arias those cadenzas as crucified for music.
our deaf ears our loud brains such mathematical calculations.
so damn mad such
beauty while Love is white. the fight of the colored souls. the pain in aggravation.
while most are looking at riches.
I was down Crenshaw. the mythic in
souls. so dazzling or pure!
I touched gates,
or broken a smile where to see is to cringe. so much to turn on. where we think
pleasantly. as accursed to destroy patience. so cured in there so womb in me
where fertilization might become travesty. a cosmic symbol. a Belgian bride. or
an African determination.
I ate a ghost I felt a blast I disappeared for a
decade. so imprinted such codification so unrealized! the voice in there, what
was said, our caged in our veins. I dipped a cigarette I lost a life we feud
amongst ourselves.
impassion the loss
or courage the storm while Love read the Ghost swooped.
a morning vitamin a tragic beginning
while pain becomes artwork. we gaze into Monet we listen to Mozart where we
marvel at Beethoven; so spellbound such hell-hounds while shifting through
Atlanta.
damn integrity!
recount for a dozen years. while accused of exaggeration.
they do it to self they do it to us
the war in a damn mirror. so indelible so cursed while headed to communion.
different taste buds, different
tongues, different idiosyncrasies!
