(untitled) [and] before I stop writing...


~

no cops. no assholes. no interlopers. no 
creeping ease back into calm after the same. 
no garbage nor the smell of garbage 
no breathless birds or the hypnotized eyes of 
tree creatures defeated in the grass. modest trees. 
no argument between them and the benevolent sky. no way? 
yes way. this was about to happen all along until 
the chance of kinder fortunes folded beneath it-
self and serenity got 
earned, somehow 
purchased from a store 
now, activates that critical response
that shamelessly begs for activation, 
ventral- and dorsal- to the spaces between 
blood & oxygen. listen, the cars, the hungry 
deserving people ready to lay 
down, the incomparable replenishment of relent. 

you can't keep it but it seems like 
it should be everywhere. 
there's an opposite to what true craziness is 
especially when you learn what 
true craziness is. 
if I differ from the easy, standard definitions 
of sanity 
I'll take the cards that come with it, and 
pay my debts, surrender my winnings, accordingly. 
there is calm in yearning, too, if done 
with balance, within certain frequencies, 
some tranquility in making an effort to form. 

okay. one of my ears is going to fucking fall 
the fuck off if I keep 
on fucking doing this any longer. 
many things in life will hurt: 
I hope this isn't one of them. 





**** 
before I stop writing... 

~

the Church Art Center for the 
Socially Divergent, Infrequently Confusing 
Citizens, of this, our morally & 
Intellectually Eclectic Corporation 
of Interest beg your undistracted attention.... 

in the name of Zigfried Jones of 
common, if unrefined heritage 
nor provide more than the cessation of one thing 
in order that vanity perish 
with as little drama as possible 
the peanut warm air of the day 
punctuated by its lingering trespass into 
other sober, vacant, vulnerable hours... 

a god with small, but persistent hands fashions 
some abstract ornament of 
identifying grace and memory 
the trillions of legs of harmless creatures' 
virtually invisible steps 
eyes each a microscopic stone outlasting 
all dismissal...
...schizophrenic webs of 
understanding, comprehension 
the absolute primacy of time to favor 
the good. 

the moment overflows with a generous 
blush like even the dead could eat 
a good meal. like stupid horses 
with no obligation at all 
like dinosaurs that refused to die. 

(the last pieces of ash 
in the wind. 
and something else.) 






**** 

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