|Artwork by John Kenn via Escape Into Life|
green lights lead me to the day, flailing peacefully.
a soft copper sibilation sits at my center
interrupting personalities asking coded questions;
trying to remember or discern
the moment before the naming of things.
my body is a trillion tribes of lonely physicalities
tired of testing and bearing out biology,
straining the holy message of the father ever taut.
messy the image and when the five senses can't approach;
endless the pure untouched foreknowledge of knowledge unformed.
by the time it comes to true and false
all is already lost.
pliable or wise too much for steel manhood,
I'm taken away obliterated
from the wild nude oxygen pool in neon green
vast expanses openly withholding consequence-
I have grown up knowing my soul couldn't matter
because I can't point directly at it or use it to start a business.
I have seen the unabashedly unmasked numbers
hastily closing down the darkness, whistling like old burning tire fires,
accusing certainties, demanding accounting and quantifications-
but I forgot the exact depth of the dirt under my feet.
ever notice what a head of steamy blusters we work up
building disaster around our disasters?
and then I think, perhaps death deserves this embellishment-
maybe death deserves no truth or patience.
damn. am I writing about death again? I don't even watch CNN.
do you think tornadoes were built by God;
devices righteous and omnipotent, sent to punish the hard-working innocent?
it's worth considering that we may not be that important-
it's the invisible things we make that cannot be reduced.
can we talk of love without being self-referential?
we haven't even considered our potential.
how far inward can we calculate our feeble awareness
before we discover that we're all really saints and terrorists?
I am almost certain that, if we try, we can imagine a society without society-
let our coalitions be loose and patterned after living organisms.
is our measurement fetish really such a sacred cow? NOW is always wild anyhow.