the
nectar community here is…
(two
parts battery terminal angels and one part bright humanity)
this
drink again
is
what the Goddesses
chorus
in gathered cups
is
what the musk Lords sing
is
what magic ruptures
from
the bird-trill-parted-seascapes
that
contain the notes and tones
in
their orchestra of every
carved
soul and bone
ever
dedicated to magic
humanity
use to be wired
completely
outside of reason
whereas
now we are sown
into
a thimble-thumbed
hitch-hiking
numbed regard
for
the shortest route
and
the quickest reward
for
getting mired
in
the maze ritual bond
that
seduces the smile
before
the ghosts of freewill
petal-unfurl
the infinities
of
a thought realized
of
a lightning-cry bottled
in
the sugar again
dark rumming our sins
we are tided
to possibility and able
to
cover the undersides
of
the deciduous canopy
at
the near edge
of
salt and sulfur
we
smell home first
we
give our bodies
flight
patterns
we shape our courtesans
in
the misty frames
of
ash, dashed past
too
close to
the
magnetic pulses
of
megaphone made
of
want and wail
we
hail-shape clayed desire
we
are the rust and the rash
we
are the madness
that
lasts like you, Edward
we
are your rabbit running blind
not
quite able to find
the
big picture show
the
cinematic paradise
of
escaping to the next escapade
of
thrill frenzy feeding
that
is the bleeding
Summer
does in belly crawls
along
the Northern forest floors
we
are the wombs too
we
are the pierce-desiccations
we
are the signposts of classifications
that
are so quick
they outpace human eyes
by
large enough margins
to
barge in and stop time
in
the thinnest of slices
magnifying
every trial
of
what we fill the streets
of each
of our Heavens
and
Hells with
EJR
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