Making up words to catch a feeling in my net
Choking on scraps of past lives
Lived in isolation of grey seas
Water flowing up the lungs
A violent lullaby
Adjusting
The numbers in my head to the symbolic
Form of y. O .u.
Breaking down barriers
Just for the view
Of your figure in the sunlit city-parks
I dreamt of horses and I felt your teeth still,
sinking deeper into my skin
Their mouths were open agape
devouring flesh-beautiful rags
And!
Of flesh we are made to walk upon the skyline of high hopes
See!
Falling from the sky are the teeth of white horses
Mouth full of them,
sporadic clashing, even so deadly
(You were mouthing these words in your sleep)
Frost-bite, or maybe the ship sinking
Tell me if you see them looking out
The morning window-view — in these corners of present-circumstance
Tell me (and be honest),
is this all there is ?
anything you yourself first awake
within
reflects the rosy decay of chains.
oh myself (or nothing)
the vacant stagnant other dies quickly;
withers away
and you now awry holding the key
stand in nothingness.
they call it "ipseity disturbance"
and when they drag you on the ground
(they hold you under your arms)
it all sounds kind of
beautiful
and leaves a pleasant taste
in the mouth
of someone whose hands you move.
the maladjusted will be laid out
on a white shroud
and laugh
(when there is nothing else left to do)
oh apophenia
painting wonderful pictures
on the walls of your prison cell.
tomorrow you go home
the feeling-state of the world
burning forever
look, love! lungs lurching. an obliterating sight
beautiful face
leaning on a windowsill
dew-thin critter
doe-eyed
honeydew pond
serpent shadow
burial birth
born a beautiful thief of life
with shadows reflecting
caught in a net
spit on the carpet
God is awake and breathing in your face
a life of fear to create
does God say
"bite the peach"?
something that did not previously exist
what has been said
what exists
what is in my mouth
and on my tongue
are these the same ?
what flows slowly
and what flows freely
God
the pain of creation