Tuesday, December 30, 2008

looking at big things made out of small pieces

paltry beginning disguised with the shaky song of blood beating excited--
oblique movement turnaround touch

we are reliant on palpable editorial signage (in the realm)
of love
of commercial appeal (sex drugs rock
the rolling syzygy
concoct the ingredients of selfish thought

wanna shake it
with that one over there
get down real like and sense something of the other

though these things are seldom connected
still gonna give it a try--see why it never
to anything but a hooked look and a beleaguered sense of self

turn around grabbing at the dust kicked up
by sobriety (the narrow arrow sprung and shot forth)
gallant rider of courteous deeds
speak easy and steal something worthless
take what is not ours to take and glower in the feeling of religious ecstasy

sheathing silence
loving the songbird perched in the window so loud--
take me back to herstories defined by noise synchronized
expounding out into the soft night where cold waters stand (still and alone
a place where ladders climb to blank space
filled with unopened letters
and childless birth is everywhere

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