June 3, 2012

poem 173 of a poem a day for 2012

how much disdain do you feel bleeding, Edward

for things that crawl under skin
tell me where and how
to wear my crown
of holier than thou too
thin bleeding each base instinct
in a bowl with crack pipe old lips
my devils are told this is the way
to a hands-on adrenalin turn-knobbing
the entrances that use the velvet rope
to drum up more business
while the windows empty shell
the dusty road between the written
and all of our dreams

this is where lawless art
will exist after currency
is no longer a valid excuse
to carve an identity that the wind
has wrapped claws around this planet with
a thousand-million days of clawing  
caged flesh in aisle capped displays
piecing adornment for selling
quick-set memories
in foam spittle bricks
that the tanneries pay for
with what we thirst for
in a quickening that frames
life into leathered vignettes

in all the Saturday nickelodeons
we are kite riding
where the vespered howls
careen the edges of every abyss
our humanity deep kisses
our disconnect with
the strange comfort
of undiagnosable silhouettes
leaning on the corners
of ignorance and Divine
this is what Darwin
rationalized at times
jig-sawing the puzzle
of human eyes
fitting what was needed
to make sense of something
as dark as a rusted soul
looking for a herd gathering
into the sweet grasses
with the sea waiting below
as if an endless mouth of birth
discovery and the cycle end
of death by Sun
we are each season
we are every heartbeat alive
we are forever crawling
swimming, flying or otherwise buying
we are always moving
we are a rhythm corded
we are our desire for more
we are our willingness
to wade towards
each part of our unhinge
we are the vulgar and the sin
we are everything
that light gets in


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