all of my wholly hole-y me see sight wants to be the nose memory
is two dimensional flat paint widows against the west leaning
hemlock seems reasonable write Socrates down on my knees
the begging pleas wonder ebb slow bared raw low tide pulse
winter nights dream escaping by the sea with all my Goddess
and Witch paramount heart beat wander to wheat
the threshing of soul is done with the womb
and it stands to reason and ration you can make
Schrödinger's cat kill the cat
or feed it veal and rice if you'd like
carom cart peddler bones as we amplified comfort
and convenience the belfries began taking over the gloaming
portal wicked dark velvety birth petals falling awareness
calling all the corners you've turned to corridor poems
with sacred mathematics woven into the ways the words
spill spawn spurn the body is a shattered seed
maternal needing bleeding for
through door and pail
cross and nail
everyone hears the wavers
traffic patterns to dive in to your mind ...
winterberries feed the birds
cardinals and sparrows mostly
the crows eat everything we litter in a hurry to secure or
sanctify a future we feel we know is best for the moment
white horses black horses
roan clouds and keeping chickens happy by playing funk music
I imagine the Meters and P-Funk
makes the eggs have wobble golden yolks
womb puddings and room to stretch out and draw
your self curtain crayon marker on the wall
the variances required for this kind of theater
it occurred to me will be
a forest labyrinthine mechanical nickel ride 'atthe launderette
a pop up restaurant happened to follow me home one night
when I smoked kush in an alley near river street
it knew I would be hungry after looking longingly
lovingly at the way streetlights clothe buildings
I could feel the seep blanket slide of the Hudson
tongue lapping gauze poems over the mix
of stone wood metal and asphalt
shh the basilisk
can see me
I'm covered in mirrors
it starts speaking to me
in bugs bunny cartoon expressions
jumble poems
I need a wide view to get
but can't avoid looking
into the finer details
of what drives me to keep looking
when baited
weighted to scent
waded to sent
waited when
the elevator stopped at the gyroscopic word section
I floated over Your bosom
slid my hand where
once there You laughed
and said Yes this is why
sometimes You got to leap
and chance the abyss
She had bubblegum phrases
in each of Her expressions
flavors all over the globe
bergamot undulations
She made eggs that sang
bee balm ached sweaty palms
sewn into what called you
into this very day
table window coffee
May maybe mammary momma warm wood grain
as the crows fly fantasy mythology
articulations crawling the Dawn
trembling with a cling
dew feeds us when
three faces of Eve threaded weave
I spend myself the pain slow it down bell echo
these scars are patina
poem says
mostly all you glitter with
is a dusty hue
the soul
in fade light soft slag
tapestries
and tales told without words
favorite things like certain foods
at certain times of year
can bring a Robin Goodfellow
from the barrens and woods
and plain clothes policemen follow me
you're paranoid poem says
yes and tourniquet-ed-ly so
moppet fop fizzy busy dizzy from too much spinning
winning some kind of race that seemed incalculable to comprehend
but you're in it racing drumming strumming
stringing
smells inside of smells and rituals
old notebooks I kept they tell
I am going crazy
not nearly perceptible
but discernible if you close your eyes
and lean into my desperate
my likely outcome roll of the die
timble tumble tamble tune
I hear myself clay iron rain mountain
and how time says to ghost water with
transport by memory duty
like crows in the sky
cream clouding the tea
when that sometime
summons time
when an old soul dies
EJR ©
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