ReRites (a flood of sad millennial relevance) [July 2017]

IV If I went after starlight. I couldn’t have thought the bread. It was the first month of bones, the first tuning of broken changes the first rising delicate toward death. ~ + ~ Radiances, think we are growing into shores We have never stood as far together joined by unreciprocated forgiveness weaving the bones of uncoordinated smiles. I need to go to the winds of victory. I run and see that’s how I think. I’m going to understand what I am sometimes. I’m good, a game on television footprints gathered in an mmmmm. I hear snakes drifting thru the universal whooo. We gather in the hands of the scorpion Where wildflowers seek our rationality. Someday, it is told, floods in the mind Will grow genitals, claim beds. The sun falls behind an insular firewall to verify just that one. Claim. to bloom, and follow both the sound of the body and the groan of the soul collected in her farewell Summer was the Cellar Shade Where masturbating within the dry black Pleiades dogwood cascading hill the day exudes lush seeds of vibrant nothing into nothing savage cactus and plums where a bee becomes an incandescent pink-petaled bear Light injects water into the rubble Familiar arts: amorousness and drivel lost in carcasses drinking rain I walked dogs over bouncing moss ~ + ~ sometimes strands of blood feel constrained as if friendship requires illusions the unperturbed fact is a continent A dead fly on brown branches, On the grim lawn, bees and sky flopped In a flood of sad millennial relevance