Thursday, December 3, 2020

The Vacuum Has Consumed Permanence

 

I try harder while going low such terrific alienation.     saws breaking, swords clashing, sparks flying.     upon a mantis at a funeral to hold a mirror seeing confetti.     too dark for dinner too remote for practice at guts tunneling intestines. such seasickness such tumbleweeds where mother hung by a cliff.     by nausea by screams by interior demons. so causeless with a cause as delirious a charm.     at first sight so rabid inside while needing like church bells.     a phobia for joy a glance at pain while seducing melancholia.     the bathhouse is bleeding the tepee is yelling a man needs his concentration.     so Tibetan or so India while so ashamed.    the way it hurts is the way it tenders where adoring Love was pathetic. such cuts in spirit such raw steaks while thawing out infinity.          a chafe thigh a real dilemma such dread in a diamond … those bloody diamonds this Covid-19 or such ash from California fires.     by oxygen to muse by wolves to abandon where one says something triggering its lengths.

I met her while tripping, I saw a little maniac, so close the bone trembled. such a rickshaw soul as carrying too much while humans have become horses. a pound or wheat, a whale laughing or guts inside into bottomless. such hardwood or a coppice of dyes while Love was a gadfly.     those pictographs, I re-sorted them, why Love in every invisibility?

the knucklebone the blood curtains or draperies into science; a magic man a grim phantom where adoring others was terminal. by signature trauma, by gut roots while raiding old feelings. the box grieving a cedarchest with pictures an old agony floating while giggling. a grin in dying a woman much life, to need a piece of her brilliance; but never a felt second never a ruby glass but shards digging into helium bones. such lighted justice, by sheer intentionality, while revenge is orange chocolate.     often—we mis-think traffic, to arise as a hero, where Love saw a little boy. such seesaws such alarming kenisic(s) such polished falderal!

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...