Tag Archives: #gut

Give Me

TELL me: where does the wind come from?
where do the stars come from?
what are these wings and walls that they take
around, around to be happy and straighten themselves
to return from what?

And for whom they carry around everywhere and the desire to return.

Give me the smell of their body

The smoothness of the body the sweet grassiness of the pellet
and the scent of their eyes, the road underneath that they keep marching
all the time in pursuit of each other.

Give me the softness of a human spirit and the weight of her soul.
It’s not because I ask for that I desire the animal,
that’s all, I’m only certain of what I seek.

Like eyes that sleep on the shoulders
like the fragile set of the hands
that are always looking for contact
and they might not find it, in whom they could be.
because the animal is too weak to survive the scouring flame.

Give me the makeup of their being
and the sound of their music
The bird that is like a triangle
that hangs like an anchor
The shadow that burns by going
into the sun and comes out of a hole

Give me the tree that grows in pensive sleep
The heart that lies by the feet
the lips the lungs the soul that dries up in its eyes

Give me the leopard that cleans up in it’s corner
and the jackal that does kill within its sleep
the bar that cleans up the wine

Give me the god who buries his hair
in the thunder that’s shattered the whole Earth
The pig that’s eaten all its world
The father that sits within the wall of fire
and the wing that does not flap

Give me the mother of a demon that reads its own novel
The sky that flies towards nothing
The roots that destroy everything
The post that does not reach the Sun

Give me the light that is being the light
that’s been in this world a long time

Give me a cave that seems to come out
to a party that is going to come out
of the garden that is being the womb
of the mother of the dead and the desert
and the mountain

give me

Nothing.

:: 07.27.2022 ::


ENTHUSAISTIC LOOKING RELIGOUS PEOPLE

[the Egyptians are extremely interesting to us today
for various reasons. How science today wishes to
understand the secret ingredients where that the Egyptians
used when they wrapped up dead people so that their faces
would not rot for innumerable centuries.]

LIKE SILVER BIRDS before the wind
enthusiastic looking religious people who sit in sky seats.

The germs breaking out of mankind with lumps of famous bronze.

They will clear up your guts.

Say, ‘shh.’ The corduroy forest is luscious and black smoke
of the lamp. Dots of red ants are upon the Letter we Opened.

They build trampolines in the dish but we have forgotten.
To not be able to shake the wrinkles off of time and memories.

How they watch and laugh!
Look, there is something we all want.

It has steps.

Here is the key:

“Shh.”

The stoat jumps out of the fur and runs away to catch the scent.

Shh. — only for a moment then from behind the awful gilt wings of a magnificent
palace of life shall be painted on the blackened door. And when it is done it will
be our palace of course. Bluebells, bluebells, bluebells of hundreds–like far-off suns–
hand strayed from that beaten path.

:: 03.18.2022 ::