ReRites (open your time wake the something her tongue tells you) [July 2017]

The pulse-rape of his toxic postcard spread like lobster in a swan’s home ~ + ~ from an innocent nest, one worm caged a dull dull sensation of true God! ~ + ~ Torn by the tyrants Hidden like hypothesises We ate the breath of objects Among the screaming herd. Once exposed to a clasp of submission and shame, I become ill. The throats on fresh memories don’t chalk a high, no apparent audience emerges. ~ + ~ A Horny reader, transparent, crashes, glowing, through the sun hunting darkness for a day long buried. ~ + ~ everything settles soundlessly reenacting a garbled universe sandblasted dreamily, reading paid by some simple form of the brain Glass Inside Surmised Stumps that were and would not do. ~ + ~ Glance along the rain and aspire to succumb slack in a clear beam of beige and Jupiter hibiscus spoils. Skin that is pain, should be alone, every day. and nothing more self will see: living And the rain, restless, pretending to be empty, filled everything with death ~ + ~ While the instructing the crowd to give the scar a Device in which to dwell, I stroke the grass that I once returned. Sallow and unknown, I miss the complicated mat- tress of sleeker hours. We remember the criminal triangular solid rains, the Olympian wail of a winged light among the abstract fluorescent-lit gazing ~ + ~ In the sun of the cemetery I practice beauty ~ + ~ open your time wake the something her tongue tells you