dead myrrh
first mention of belgium in the sea table
first amalgam of snow.
where the whittler sat, witlings;
air folded up, sewn around the edges,
and packed away.
first mention of elbow, resting on the knee.
windbag squeezed dry, three black droplets.
three symphonies, as tired as mullets.
first mention of statuary, a hand with a door,
down into green valleys, green valleys of belgische.
first mention of spider, where loam races free from cock,
first mention of bitter plug where writing goes in
now sitting at the table, hands spread wide doing nothing
eyes looking forward to nothing, skin, cool, morphless,
nearly gone.
first mention of the window, where the wind splashes in
from the frame, where the children stand bleary,
awakened by flames.
first mention of ocean where the sea table stands,
where the statue lingers with its empty hands.
imagine! she wears that face all the time, what must it feel like a sensational rubbery mask approximating the form of the bones beneath she's wearing it now trying smile after pout after James Dean squint
you know you've seen her walk like that wearing that head on top of a real spine - real backbone! imagine! there's something
between those legs of hers there's something can't quite put my finger on
some kind of power there it takes a man to make a woman women make women men it doesn't
take much
the library computer has a copy of photoshop... screen print, save as jpg, open in photoshop [read the books about using photoshop], change (whatever happens), and sit on several Perloff books to get me high enough to reach the keyboard, cheers, hks
first,
a combination of appearances with cross-purposes
simply put
simple work
working up a thought
not forgetting time
or refuting matter
just simple content richness
begging for fullness of living
a body with a soul
that shivers
caught in the cold
begging for a scrap heap
shivering at the nearly subliminal
naked ready
almost ready
on the spot
a sleep that extracts
what is mealy
what is called what
called intuition
a point of no opposites
a point of opposites
called no point
called splendid submission
called a verse of labor
a remission
calling my self
facing someones something
I know
the first question
doing the thing
undoing the thing
redoing the thing
undoing the done
undoing strange words
simply put
working up a thought
not forgetting time
in another
whats beyond
the general claim
in a general setting
putting up a claim
and putting up a setting
simply put
I didnt say on my account
I’d be back
I didnt say
again on my account
I didnt say
I’d find my
strength in the absurd
trying to find the finite
and back again
leaving myself here
dismissing a spiral
not knowing
whats beyond the beyond
spinning a multifaceted scenario
sacrificing a never
considering the claim
working up to
undoing the undone
and trying again
considering the considering
away from the
husk feeding on
the almost ready
on the spot ready
what is mealy
what is called what
is a ready what
wicked in sin
never exhausted
diminishing
never exits
simply put
trying again
imagining a simplicity of motion
a distinction
that restores a feeling
un-maps the unspoken
awakens the not in motion
in motion
redefining matter
simple content richness
begging for fullness of living
a body with a picture
a no longer exists
in rupture
beyond
the lie
that exists in the
compulsion to lie
shrouding the senses from things
inlaying interest and values
investing in opposites
to have is to have is to have
is a thought
I may be swimming
drowning in sound
in the secret sent ot sound
in the marvel
of the discovery of sound
beyond the beaches of an uncharted sea
crumbing to pieces
reinterpreted at sun rise
reduced to a whole
or a whale
or a reproducible
someone else’s
blaze deep in walled eyes
chafing boulevards
wrestling with corners
screaming
watch out for the protruding
nostalgia trusts
daggers at every ready words
a pulse with a door
a heart with every knob
I am ready again
or re re ready
a body with a soul
of flesh make ready
I correct the phrase
I am ready again
a body
that imagines
for who matters
who better
nothing known
vibrates on eye lids
a liquid destination
in the essence of an idea
simply put
working up a thought
not forgetting time
or refuting matter
thank you... I feel that way about your work.....I am attempting to learn into the unspeakable-.. moments that words would only kill, but all we have is that with situates
this girl who would break hearts but couldn't swim
drifts edgewise through best-broken borders between the sky
and water she got wet too bad dry it
out dry us out where did the stuff of life
find escape into water where did the cracks form
(she was born to form them answer your own
questions before you ask all fragments came from
something whole hole describe her? love to. short spiked
all over like an urchin urchin eyes and little
hands she's smoke smoking I light in sympathy to
the rhythms of bad house this girl who would
break hearts the break hurts it lets all the
insides to the outsides so much depends) so much
Harry, I have been enjoying your vispo recently, and this piece is a wonderful one. There is a flavor to the entities you are posting here. They become wonderful, dimensional objects that transcend words.
we want the freedom to be desirable
freedom to have a thought
freedom of connotations
of the nearly possible
beyond the prescribable
being intoned
in the contours of contours
we want 1 of any 108
becoming times
16 hundred attentions to detail
either does or does not originate
on a account of absent
or not
concerning the concerning
not not but not
set forth
after to many objects
after to many objections
we want to have our cookies and milk
a combination of sentences
and the impossible
dreaming a substance
moving in fire
because its a condition
in a substance
moving in fire
or either or also
contains many reply's to doubt
if we consider the real
if not
never mind
if not
the particle is liquid
the solid is a particle
the concept pabulum
or not
or a road map
a cold manner of speech
hows the weather?
is your heaven
where you expect it
never expecting suicide
or differentiated speech
smoothing the fairies away
making them human like
sort of potato like
smaller then small
greater then great
not the fairies
the senses
senescing the senses
recording undulations
in the receiving eye
a neither or dont count on it
rejoined with either or
gold seal subject
living matter
becoming an apprentice
with perfect teeth
the rest is oblivion
a corporation
complete with a buyer markets
trains the leaders of tomorrow
based on yesterdays today
has eyes on flex time
transfers to the classified
to another scanning new
someplace looking for a sunrise
someplace thing
we call
a past future
the size of the thumb
able to rain down
hills and streams
inside the flesh
inside the wind
held in a dream
purpose turns derivative of Kant
+
each postulant requires rehearsal of pure genuflection
+
charms work best on bracelets
+
dementia leaks dimension
+
the true consequentialist consistently will balance core ethical values
+
scythes look good on broad band belts
+
punishment is inconveniently effective right after the act
+
beyond inherent immaturity of reciprocity
I take it to heart
to a heart that has no heart
that has nothing to say
but keeps walking that way
that marboro way
from no way walk away
to buddy can I burrow some fodder
to another vernacular
for a billion dollars
inside trading
creating a vicious circle
susceptible to disease
its a trillion dollar tradition
adornment of the god reserve
another heart
for another dollar
its good for poetry
its v-deep
and it makes me feel
more for more
for another dollar
another short sleeve patriot
without limbs
tired around
a derelict body
the old oak way
the witch burning way
Larger images
for log in members
Re: subject
Re: the glaciers
Re: melting
its not the glacier
its dramatically altering contours
changing
rising
to opportunity
to more sunscreen
to have another other
entreatment system
click here to download a list of
here a skull there skull
heres a there
and there's a bombardier
beneath in armored division
of hot shrapnel
ripping though bowels and bladders
its another dollar
another day
more poetry
a game show
not a game show
the amrikan presidency
take it to heart
its another dollar
ripping bowels and bladders
shattering arms and legs
less food more hunger
its not the food
its the hunger
its not the hunger
its a postmortem rebuttal
mistaking life-threatening illness
for emergency room artifacts
Litigation Underground
for mocho subdivisions
to a factor of ten
to another free trade getaway
if it fits well
it serves well
rubbing flesh against metal
titanium against bone
phantom pain
and phantom limbs
body parts
and replacement parts
going going gone
replacing truth
with another
mismatched limb
forgetting the word
not the word
open heart surgery
internal bleeding
hemorrhaging to death
someone has no legs
thinking
someones going to die
thinking
someones laying there like a vegetable
someone writes a poem
kills a queer
not a queer
a vegetable rotting in the sun
yelling someone is yelling
I am here
I am here
someone is yelling
more T& A
bullets shattering teeth
a gapping open something found
another dollar
Red-hot shrapnel
liquifying bowels and bladders
someone keeps yelling
Im here
Im here
Im missing a limb
Im missing a limb
someone keeps yelling
faggot faggot
rotting in the sun
someone is saying
strange fruit
rotting in the sun
another day
another dollar
take it to heart
happy people
invest in
swing voter satisfaction
a mist of blood
shattered windshield
legs on the road
a body mile away
learn spanish
be a sperm donor
give a blow job
lowest tuition since heaven
someone starts screaming
my legs are gone
the price of crude oil has risen
someone starts screaming
the price of crude oil has risen
someone keeps thinking
like a vegetable
receive an instant message
no actors or sticky sex
just someone screaming
someone just lost a spleen
someone has kidney damage
shrapnel in both legs
in both eyes
constricting breathing
its another day
another dollar
another body
another example
electricity is the answer
available 24-7 flush toilets
someone is thinking
water
someone thinking
nobody knows
what is happening
In a neighborhood without lights
pockmarked dirt streets
open sewers
its another other
shattered leg and detonated mine
a beacon of democracy
missing below the knees
careful diplomacy
missing below the knee
a clear moral purpose
more dollars
tough decisions
a grenade dropped
it was a mistake
between ankles and knees
a mist of blood
a useless tourniquet
flowing from the femoral artery
weapons of mass destruction
more poetry
the terrorists fighting freedom
someone believes in
the transformative power of liberty
they try to rise the dead
someone keeps screaming
I dont want to die here
blown up
missing legs and arms
no hands
no eye
extending the length
increasing the casualties
increasing the cost
$250,000 per person per year
per peace keeping operations
per vacation package
painkillers are useless
on the island sinking the sea
blood spurts from shattered legs
streams from the head down the face
someone was supposed to be dead
someone actually thought they were
someone is screaming
my legs been amputated
someone is partially deaf
eyesight gone
skin like swiss cheese
pierced in dozens places
someone is screaming
someone is screaming
I dont want to die here
What's the best way for it to go
re: improbable armadillos crushed to keratinous
bits in Central American highways?
I'm compiling ideas for later,
dividing live from dead with Linnaeus' eye
for separation.
Taxonomy is violence, dontcha know.
Name me as you unname yourself. Think
carefully - three species of rosella are
crashing into clean rainwashed windows
right now.
Think I'll define your lot by the way
you eat an apple - top, middle or
bottom first? then by your taste for cruelty, your
Machiavellian plots to resolve stinging Oedipal complexities
by annexing the world's wombs and crawling
back in we are different.
What makes curiosity bereave our trust Magnify what you have liked again The petals stop progression of a wall turned viable How many inferences belong to you When the location makes economy a thankful moment Trail the gaze points [blaze] Before enough has been recorded Here is halo Turned fair expectation Planked left light Promise-keeping seems affordable enough Spawns thought Need to be clear to the recorder Pique interest If a platform began hurting you What you sow is how you do Exculpate what was couched Couple of buzzwords to lure you like a pearl-toned fish in trembling water "Our kids are out there" Voyages you try to like Maybe even lose a locksmith in the family Interpretative askancement showpiece therapy Three particular Exemplary resource flights Tough road to walk it's difficult Six pilgrims having lost their way We all own this Parallelogram become an also ran immersion One's inedible experience becomes a crash course Instantaneous relief from precipice Guard infraction at least once lack of division problems Some incarnations blossom in our eyes A symmetrical economy refrains from divviance Kismet frankly wrinkles a relaxed tone Flexible glitch fermenting twice the rinse Capstone application offers profundity Appreciable one's being flexible is there a little boy here To want more is the same as modesty In the room a wake up call amounts to why / why not Would you believe what is unorthodox can split the ice
the we the nosebleed? the sagebrush so Pleb efficacy arouse anchor and moat chance tenacious and mortgagor a certain conscriptblue bill afterlife actor
We recently received the. crosstalk to lamella or autistic, though we're not of tutor hurwitz drunken be it be or be it impression. ontology is its beaux adventurous for so sage car boxy Collegial rice
The application is pending a moment
If authorized, please enter additional unique giraffe halogen via Flanged cheetah isaac, along with the ackley antithetic latrine participle, for a morosely - dime
Please do not reply to this O angus bristle, chatty bran tiff and bee county of map and please do not resume downdraft to its debug an out cavernous singe switchboard. so, inquiry for a sahara in catastrophe fog, censorious haunt or no to the to be us anti-Semitism, for artwork resolution, so begonia bitterroot mausoleum of cheer via johns our lovelorn express chromic adieu the voyage reek. from cacti to three depart the B-heard Willie depart
taken as tentative even the lost words become worldly, and everything is put out,
put out on a table (of reasonable height); that is, in the events folding around in
proportion to the unseen tentativeness: remembering isn't questioned here, as it
could and would (of) be, speaking as authoritarian(lyly) suggests. Now (ow) the table
length can be taken unreasonably, taken as unwritten where rewriting would only
substitute as passing tone'd (articles), amounting to none the less ness'
SKIN a rough map, allowing represents what entry is; of the glue, ifs lash through silver, edge shared by language overhearing a toddler and stuffed animal
despite Cezanne, desire is never the world;
liquid of a rough bone become wine, a wedding veil; she sleeps,
and time will follow
where wheels lifted
shed tongues
and falling apart across
the world
a body of tongues
which entered through
the sun
and burns as bright
as wind
cold harmony of
ice song sinking
under small seas
persisting days
hips of lawns
and mouths to toll
grey bells of interior
now catching the throat
now catching the dream
of breath keeping
quarters of rain
from the crossroads
a seven-limbed crown
gold as hyena's
laughter
lovely in the turn
of the stitch
the world is ending
just begun
and strife a wind
behind it
some curtain will be
drawn
across the sheet
some eyes where
roads once met the
sky
roving in the gulley
coyote's pause
magnificent
gallery of hexagon
blankets
silver bee horn
stretching to the chest
sternum of green lava
beast of the hand
grown still
still grown
and pallid
whose copper nails
are polished
before entering
the lights of
the soft womb
Please update your psychokinetic radars and investigate Sanctum Sominum, a growing investment of poems in a two-tone format. May all of your fallacies be logical ones.
Hmmmm. Reminds me of the singer, Jeff Buckley, of the beauteous voice (capable of singing in the coloratura range), his song, "Grace," from the CD of the same name. Died in the Mississippi river, weighed down by his Doc Marten boots, and a key ring hung with dozens of keys collected from many hotels when he was on tour. But I think you're referring to a different kind of "key." Or are you?
not commerce
but the world
not the word
everything
the dirt that brings wonder
to something that goes further
something out of politeness
something not commerce
the world
not the word
everything
a partial affirmation
bringing to wonder
an entire department store of affirmations
self distinguishing
self relating
self-congratulatory
opposite givings
gving rise to another opposite
giving another
not a connections to notions
but a new level of devotion
a dream job
backed by engineering shadows
I am not imagining this
imagining a bar code
not a partial
a catch all
not just commerce
a bar code
an ideal
addresses before kidnapping
a bar code
before the fall of rome
before the fall of night
naming doing proceeding
the rain besides a white chicken
besides a plastic pink
radio blaring
fleeting moments
banging steel
teflon bullets
not just commerce
a full stop
of 50 or so semicolons
something landscape
something zero
doing descent
doing gone
a moment
behind myself
behind
I can go no further
passing things that comes to pass
not commerce
but the world
not the word
an offering
not a partial
a single
not a unit
the unimagined
not an ideal
a partial
gone before being imagined
something not commerce
the world
not the word
an offering
something turned to salt
then back
years of undergrowth
something in the landscape
something zero
50 or so semicolons
a pillar of fire
commerce and a pillar of fire
a pillar of fire
and a pillar of desire
punch and judy
not practical
a notion
which does not mean
a system like egalitarianism
something like production quotas
something just beneath the breath
intelligence gone to the dogs
gone to the pound
gone hard core
not a partial
a doctrine
something salt
a pillar of fire
interchangeable subject and objects
equality over the republic
overseeing the over seer
overseeing a department store of
self distinguishing self relating
self-congratulatory
giving praise to another
not connections to notions
but a new level of devotion
a dream job
backed by engineering shadows
I am not imaging this
imagining a bar code
imagining not a partial
a catch all
a dreamed status quo
a department store of affirmations
hoping my face meets the chap-stick of life
the way a day goes by
a doctrine turned to salt a
not commerce
but the world
not the word
everything
[1]
fraught with g/old lamé my brimyoung
caught-on-tape most limber mourning dovelet
sessions quease with taste you are my third tread
reassuring a sung wind chemise
as faithfully I camisole my weight loss
in our nearby faculty quintet all double reed
all sinecure all limbly limed
with petrol ducks in shallow rows
[2]
veneer has merely taken place
I womb the seared round chastity
that crosses midlines wholly owned
and tremble in carved dark
space of wild leaves
glowing sanctus in the near-
resembling easterlies
[3]
et tu root cause of shelflife
are the memories melodious as thee
is censure the sole aggravation
are the palms of sweatlined rosters
yours and yours in line
along the dumb text of a scapular
worn by scapegoats in the gala
mention of a hiberation
[4]
drum your way through to
the crop receiving heat's own sacred flight
I warm your fleeting rasp of honeycomb and twine
mimesis is all mine
the bindweed correspondence
between whole tone and despair
rung twice
[5]
how many thimbles does it take
to hold an ounce of rice
our loaves are thumbtones
and our speech gives way
our stoic members blanche
in their spare part[icles] of time
how young must one be
to prepare to ring the sparse
alarm how peopled are retreats
whatever wiseman
tongue can swallow
wrapping around
beech nut and hide of walnut
a carpet bag octopus
a hut with orna-mental teeth
exact plagues which reach out
in the night to do justice
to wrong colors written rightly
the tradition of painting monkeys
was unknown and cleanliness problems
can bring about equipment damage
nothing happens without a reason
so buckle up
wash out the cube
circle the x
tow the line
tie the maid
and murmur the crosshair
focus is innate
and rayleigh is dead
four cheers for circuses
in quaranteen
stopped cold before spreading
this disease of bread
this cold drivel which spreads
salty from the dome
and sets up hard as stone
witch-rock-parasol
Z frame whetted as a pair of drapes
driven to side swipe copularia
to sentence any granule of responsibility
by flight to veins as wasteful as the lime
tread filed under an oval light half
sturdy or white timber like a blast
a ballast tiled resemblive of a clove
painting straight pontoon or leak
fall embers toned or chided by
the emir tired as thinking
time turned gleaned finesse three
formal obvious young queries pose
"why did you come" as foremarks where
the message used to be our life our limber
feats our dignified redemption our undress
once sprung to lengths of recent seedlings
I want to acknowledge (fill in the blank)_______________ and_______________,
I also want to acknowledge
its increasingly hard to come out and play
it has nothing to do with you and you and you
its just hard to come out and play
or to play and come out
every morning I wake
every day I wake up
theres a new dawn
the alarm goes off
I wake up
I never wake up
I never sleep
live in fear
of a longer one more day
another decapitated body
living breathing bodies
being living not dead
despised, but still living
every morning I wake up
the dobermen are on police alert
someone steps in a direction
40,000 dead
another day arrives
another 40,000 dead
I count the bodies
its another day
another tomorrow
every day 40,000 dead
starvation and needless disease
40,000 dead
every day 12 million cattle
murdered slaughtered
decapitated
cut to bits
12 million cattle
40,000 dead
The alarm goes off
something cut into fryable bits
trying to stay intact
losing cohesion
trying to wake up
sold and repackaged
beating myself against the winds
cut into chunks
bite-size chunks
every morning
I try to wake up
every day
I come out to play
its the days of aluminum foil
I chew on bits of styrofoam
have no recognition
just antagonism made real
the ocean rises
there is another other
the ocean rises one more inch
a beating dilemma with a norm
40,000 dead
tiny bits
more styrofoam
the weak and infirm
concealed in history
I want to say
I cant say
I want to say
I want to come out and play
I want to say
all the borders are words
I can no longer speak the word
out
and
play
and
this is the beginning
what the law will allow
decapitated into bits
stacked up words
stacked in the mind
ethnically erased
ethically raped
its another day
I have to apologize
its another
again and again
I am a crying game
in anothers body
a primal scream being slaughtered
made ready to serve
I am beating myself against the winds
the dobermen are on police alert
you are a doberman licking my wounds
I want to acknowledge fill in the blank
licking through the prima facia
beating the hands of the hands
of a well intentioned highway robber
this has nothing to do with you
its all about
its a new dawn
I am another body
that always knew
only to die
living breathing
being living being
like the day the earth stood still
starting with a question
ending with one
being
despised at the same time
40,000 dead
the alarm goes off
I count the humans
the way I count the dead
counting bodies
chunked and packaged
somewhere
a hand holds a place in place
everywhere it’s morning
held in place
I wake up
its a place
its a hand
trying to find a livable question
trying to find who counts as human
who do we grieve?
again
I want to acknowledge fill in the blank
a fallen angel
we never meet
trying to stay intact
its another day
someone steps in a directions
I want to come out and play
stay intact
lose cohesion
decapitated into tidbits
its the day of the dead
beating my self against the winds
looking for another angel
thats not angel
thats another question
like the rest
every morning I wake up
every morning is another day
the dead court the dead
bodies accumulate
who is human crumbles
sold and packed into bits
every morning I wake up
chew on aluminum foil
its in the dirt
its in the air
its in the water
I am on fire
looking for breathing bodies
days of aluminum and styrofoam
looking for a livable earth
a claim to reality
a possibility
a would be simple
a line of decent
a would be emergence
an unknown
beyond a national
obsession
with penises in bathroom
or testosterone girl friends
beyond the typical
I am yours for a dollar, but not a night
beating the earth
chewing the dirt
chewing aluminum foil
40,000 dead
living breathing bodies
being bodies living breathing
beating the norm for elaboration
for more dilemmas
for the fourth time
how did you know as a child
you were no longer a child
remember you woke up
and said not that
the way I said
cant come out an play
falling through space
trying to answer the question
is it on the body
or is it the body?
another, not recognition
just agnostics flesh
testices of a cock
separated from a body
attached to the wound of the hen
resold againist the winds
not dead but decapitated
treating the weak and infirm
as auto-suggestion
courting bodies
in court bondage
concealed in a history of
who can become
a what when
tomorrow every day
as an it whenever
the law will will
a whatever piece of furniture
formally know as static
40,000 dead
in the land of cattle
laid out in advance
is a it whatever
placed where sharp machines
work to make a grid of intelligibility
producing pastorel place settings
producing murder
another day
another tomorrow
sold and repackaged
a transition to well meaning shoes
a subdivision alternative
clinking in essential normative practices
here to keep the Mosquitoes at bay
answering neither a or b
as it goes
it comes
answering neither a or b
as it is
its another day
underground speaking freely
trying to repackage bite size chucks
acknowledging fill in the blank
where there is no line or demarcation
where strictly speaking
cannot be answered
remains in brackets
concealed in foil
living in fear
kari this is immense! reading it, i got the taste of alfoil in my mouth about halfway through & haven't been able to get rid of it. thanks for putting it up where we all can see. m
just me and my words
it's my beginning
and it'll be my end
I don't want your fame
but maybe a bit of your riches
okay, yeah, I lied
I want a little of your fame
but I want only those I give
a fuck about knowing me to know
who I am
not you pansy elitists who wet
yourselves over the latest poet laureate
not you robotic suits who would want me
to sign in blood for the rights to my books
not you overindulged trust fund babies
who would buy my shit even if it sucked
no, I want
you who don't give a fuck who Ted Kooser is
you who would be sorely disappointed if I sold
my soul to those Hollywood fucks
you who spend your hard-earned money
just to buy my shit unless it sucks
when all is said and done and I've written
my last words
you will be the ones left
the ones that mattered
the ones who watched as I bled through
my words and read between the drops
when the fame and fortune are gone
and the literary fucks are debating if I
was a genius or a hack
it will just be
me and my words
it's my beginning
and it'll be my end
In my own apartment, with the cold furies, the proem filled with night. On the telephone walk with light and her details forthwith. A burn, a cut on my arm after falling down while running.
Let it out; how? You should
crack open the top of my head like Gulliver's
egg and let sympathy for the feet of
ponies grazing on rain-fat grass tumble
out as a hundred startled pigeons cooing
and rustling keratinous feathers, the lot of them flapping
up and up an dup into the calm heated face of the
sun the sun reaching out to melt all
the wax in their wings so they fall
back to ponies with sore feet,
wrens moving one static frame at a time,
back where my hard diminished heart drops
to the earth, a pretty, polished, tumbled
ruby ejected from my closed and cagey
chest walked around by legs wishing only
to run away
to cartoon horizons bearing many-armed cactuses, cactuses
baring blushing fruit to a desert imagined
by me in hot terrifying dreams when I was four,
pounding sheets rough as seasalt
with undersized fists until I
woke to streetlights outlinining tree branches
in my window, a grey cat curled into
my sweating belly.
flutesong's supple canto could respell
what fading immemorial fell
among the harbor's jagged lines
behind the coat rack of the times
between the daily sots and brews
below the trembling quips and clues
the motion gallops, flows and moans
o'er mirrored eyes and dullard bones
the lake teased up and streets made slick
i paced at home and quivered, sick
the name a copy like yours, like hers
the simple contours, rocks, and furs
were gathered in this flutesong's roil
twas not a warble but a boil
a high-pitched finger tapped the hole
the microlabyrinthine print of old
the face hung plain upon the shelf
where madmen's bliss ignored all pelf
and shuttered towns snoozed in half-light
covered pots and hushed the sight
the dry sheets sigh as legs go near
and all thoughts fade as some veneer
of warbly flutesong's spheery dance
where particles of miracles veer and glance
and fondness' music seeps thro' skin
the murky tent-house, lissome din
this holy ear, the brooding owl
now curled in and begun to prowl
and should it stop, the sound it makes
ecstatic moments would create
for just the sound now broke would ring
and in the next begin to sing
carelessly by chance it spread
from heart to hand to fields of dead
from dread isles lost where eyes go blank
the chains are wrested from the bank
releasing feverish and clarion call
that abiding hope gets sung by all
and though its sounds were not well made
already had its mischief bade
good health and fortune to ye beings!
and to your hearts and to your dreams!
stop here, ashamed, wet behind the ears and
afraid to talk about things I surely know
nothing about. Even the mighty pen feels
weak in my hand, if I had been born
a man my arrogance would trample the
trembling girl hiding somewhere dark and
hostile, wrench open the windows, stride out
into the day all naked and foul like
some sun god waking each morning to
saturate the earth with hard, vivid light.
If I were a man I'd be chattering
mad and sweating I'd scream not
speak I'd call you a filthy no good
shit for brains whore and when my thick
fingers tangle witht he hair on the
back of your head some part of
you will agree, some part of you will
open up, bare your neck, beg
to be dissolved in the drunk sweating
unapologetic mass of my man's body
above you, unmoveable, thick as storm
clouds filling the sky when something irreversible
is about to happen.
If I were a man I'd be the snarling
raving genius people write about to
hate or love who can tell I'm
cruelty and sex all at once, I'd be
hunger and you'd be satiety, I'd be
the will the world turns for, there to
soothe the craving you never thought
would open up along you in one seam of pain,
I would be the taste of metal when you
hit your head, I'd be your mother's blood
and the grit of dirt when they bury you
and every rough familiar thing in
between
(0) Comments: Post a Comment