the nearest out of reach
point of attainment to maintaining
becomes a memory and not
part of the living fabric
space and time
are these two constructs deconstructed
weighted immense gravity
and that being density
or is it destiny
these days ...
splayed
pickled penises
are sold
as red horn
rear view
danglers
and wards
to stave off
the evil eye
so much infinity this generation's knowledge
so shallow a context ... corporate handlers
feed the id(s) skid off runways grase the wheels
debase paste
greasy grace
palms and dirty soiled underwear vending machines welcome to the future
and away we go holding the notes
Did the prophet Micah infer there'll be a child born of no soul
& another & another until we follow only
division becoming so rife
& commonplace as to stain expression
& steal the poems
shall we see idle hands
as only pretenses
being mentioned
as ways to salvation's cause
interestingly enough
these children's parents
are already at temple and in church, bowed to Mecca
all ready
making money
for this idolatry
is gold
social connective tissues are toiletries
they knead us
they're our needs
weaves, being
pleased to a
past tense
accepting
all bills due
being the last
at feast table
like a long pause
or a slow heavy door that squeaks
this poems says nothing
and we're left waiting
before realizing
the silence
that followed
was
the last act ...
these days
and
this is important
please remember
it's okay to be stupefied
tied to expression
that makes you laugh
chances are when you're fingernail
scratching blackboards
with your falsetto rendition
of johnny mathis
we'll have soupy sales
buckets of foam peanuts
to toss your way
put on some break beats
and oil slick the shit over the top of it
dive delve dollop and dance
find where you're comfortable
in and out of your pants
so when the curtains are drawn
open to close
you know where
and why
the wind blows
sentient ghost clocks
wound round
eons of old video games
we find ourselves in
playing stationary
exploration as
remember when
was the name
of the ship
we last sailed
o'er our horizons
you're breaking protocol
you're breaking
some Miller daughter's hymen
sum humankind shine
seams bare patina bind
old history stole
told story by story
linkage 2 holey bones
the articulations and movements we echoed
when wanting to be rain, Antigone
waiting by the sea
craw, claw and fire
liar liar wanting
to put my pants
back on
EJR ©
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