cusp
go to school, go to work,
kick the can, never crush it
play the song, leave the fray,
the self, swaddled in ivy
sweep your missing tail
across the leaves
let go of the song, let the bells mumble,
drunk on cloud-cover, the diamond idle,
allow a silken kimono, swaddle the skull,
eye-holes sprouting
tentacles of ivy
count as far backwards
all generations, alien ancestors
as count forward, into darkness
sound the font of every sun,
even the one which sieves
all laws of matter
up through thought, base of the spine,
sprouts through your ears
this aleatory, bristling,
widdershin canticle
spiralling inward
invisible ivy
*
Bucza
through a broken window
corneal blisters, heaven's brooding,
pinkish cloud, down in my heart,
toe-jam, sciatica
tingling droplets of rain wrought
grubbily in the war gloom
clenched in lacqeured finger-nails
a handkerchief
how you've come to sing me
one last cante jondo through unmoving lips
breaking into constitutional flames
these worlds apart at all seams
I have never, will never
see the like of your light again
as it crushes me
silence of the severed oak
may 5
*
what is weaving the sky
Mayfalls gently
day number 10
*
chirality balls
when you are walking forward
at a good clip, the pivot to walk backwards
happens smoothly, whilst
walking backward, at a good clip
the swivel to straight
takes slightly more time, effort
risk of instability. why?
it's all about habits, training
--they may even be the same--
discipline is like water,
follows the routine: bless your anatomy
that guides the filtration, flow --
bless also the observation
that this is truly weird.
entropy topples ideas,
displaces direction.
when you seek the open
you are most alone.
the last thing
you thought.
*
before the chips,
installed to prevent
child abductions,
we never could tell
when personal
informational cloud
fields were merging.
now we can even drive
personal informational
fields together by
algorithmic expansion
of contact frequency
so quickly that repulsion
begins unconsciously
and individual fields
contract, retract &
we subjects,
formerly sociable,
push apart, long
before we even meet.
personal informational
shields bind us.
markets enjoin,
keep us apart,
(each class without
knowledge of classes
ideally remains
classless, alone)
alternative social
gravitationals.
honestly?
before the chips,
t'was hard to know.
*
argonautical
dear there lonely in the grave unwritten
poems do frolic despite the clouds of mourning
gather and drift apart as faces do
and as words cohering vagrant sentence
thumb some ride beyond twilight and dawn
(dream poem under the hill)
may 14, 2022
*
so many more pairs of you
argos panoptis, guardian of the flock
1) to the so many more pairs of your eyes come sights
you never sought, as so many new or not so new
pairs of eyes cross, meet, turn away,
linger, avert, downcast, as so many do
normally, timidly, confused (thoughts far off)
on the right, on the left, male & female, undecided,
in process, the rooted & the transient
lockstep scandal gradient orbs
unknown, trudging, aimless
or purposely pushing prams,
children dressed as unicorns & pandas,
the black leather-clad fashion bicyclist
with spiked collar, a death's head helm
silver bracelets gaunt adult
pours the cocktails, shaken
2) so many more pairs of legs, arms
hands potential to be clasped, rebound,
for the longer or shorter relations, triggered,
or to be avoided if there be no point
in our congregation, indeliberate, unawares
our blues on ice, our clouds without tether
3) to the so many more pairs of ears
come both known & unfamiliar birds, sirens
as in every mind nest exotic memories
that will never reach any other place in time
dwelling nevertheless in the present invisible,
acorn or robin's egg fallen on cement
this sound too that streams between planes,
drones, the vehicles of our mad demise they devise,
let us be no better or worse for knowing
4) to all the countless unravelling narrative baskets,
torn & on the mend, I pledge some bills I don't have,
and a traveler's sense of grace, that you too, like all the forlorn,
in this placental sweat bag our bodies secrete around our form,
will resurrect in sunlight of this life, carrying on,
sleeping beneath these ever-turning, elegant phases of moon,
(they are elegant, are they not, when thought about, no?)
may you be well remembered or well forgotten, shone upon
equally as lost to darkness, forever therein found *
Money Pox.
We've all got it.
We all don't got it.
Money Pox.
Killing in the markets
and schools of the USA,
killing in, Syria, Afghanistan, Ukraine.
Money Pox, oily oligarchs,
phony pharma.
Money Pox, day & night.
Nobody doing right.
*
sore wing's hole
inasmuch as
there persists an I
thrown over ages & climbs
good as that less bad one
can be the dream-hoard
or dream-herd, heard of ears
the bull-roarer wind in the chimney chute
flapping it's gaspier outlays
inasmuch as over the landfill
they name several settlements
razed for cornfield apartment complex
missiled into submission
this I cannot go on defending for many thems
when the garden of disenchantment
sprigs forth such varieties of brand
species sub-colonial simples
and complexity flowers
spoken of as if language's
naming owns when it's all
air in the sore wing's hole
*
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