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3. We’ve reached the jagged shore. Just as they said, white birds do bend like tired actresses, in love. Suckling gold foam over lazy flappers Fat leopard arch and fight it down. Knock knock the haunt of time. Knock bottom patch knock in numbers. infinite mocks infinite right. Suckling time. Here we are not How you exist in place of want. My god I’ve made a thin thing. By the lacy window bed. You new, owe me nothing. What is real now thundering infinite cantos above improvised concierto. Head to the corner. Back to the door. Forgive us I love you. Distributed in avenues unaware of consequence. Time: as if the thing gave up between the ankles. limp to the crease of certainty. Taking new form under exhausted parachutes. Popping glimmer dumb in shadowless architecture. Forgive us noises in themselves. We are incidentally moving, otherwise untouchable. On the hook of the arm I wear a mark of capital and fame. Talk to me about youth, vibrancy of belief, luxury of love. In stereo bash orchestra, punch my pajamas out. Push us out and off this frame. 4. I am imagined. As in fantasy, our steel parts spark up. No longer inventing the sedentary center. One must make head of it. Not fight for it, if that’s what you mean. Across from water, inside glowing tanks, your ideas put me down. Sanctity in the froth full flies that fetch quick the dead. Inch on grace of force in perverse light. pinch-pinch at the sleeve. How grow sick pitch of bone against bone. What it is in night bed. What it can do when I am flag and wind fag. To raise a fist, kill the body.To kill the body, look to me completely. |
