i will seek obedience, i will seek
a cavelike space at the hands of
irony, entropy,
in a war no one else understands.
having weathered the many little deaths,
i am a foot soldier in the army of
righteousness.

the rough landscapes of desire
are depictions of silent waiting,
rejecting today for a past of pastiche,
unconsciously designing machines that
disguise the instinct for death.

the particularity of touch a luminous
and mysterious grid;
this controlled effusiveness persistent,
courting strange adjacencies
with determined solemnity.

abstraction is constructed as a fabric,
as the texture of asphalt underfoot.

a collapsing self shifts,
eras overlap, time
rendered palpable,
shearing apart at its center;
lacerations and clots like
a meditation on men.

stories wrap themselves like masks around dense coagulations of red; apparitions with bloodlike stains against a cloudy grayish yellow sky. through the silver sprawl of sublimated malevolence, a wolf eats alone in a shrinking city. this long-term calamity is their phantom limb.

a subtle coating of rust hangs on bird cages with little bird skeletons; a figure orbited by circles scatters apart; labyrinthine tanglings like bare twigs grow out of streets emptied of people.

she resurrects him as a seer as she takes off her clothes.

the ghosts of these forlorn streets are not narrative images; they look like the stars. bizarre oneiric creatures in the world, as water in water, describing parts of an ellipse: straight lines and gentle curves.

so there are other things.

unrelated things,
and perhaps all other refuges.
rules and euthanized people,
the basis of love.

i am economized, i am the refuge
of the refugee, of time, family,
a vulgar existence;
i am an abnormality which
rubs together.

my false hearing
as poor as my sacrifice.

i am new; i become fatigued,
walking boldly with my
original intentions.
i meet monsters,
a fear of endings,
of systems and boxes of
specifications.
--

i hide from my stupidity.
it is clearly audible, but never good.
a simple avalanche, a simple someone;
someone i think i want.

he possesses a coercion problem.
it is a scurvy, a fat quality.
he is a victim of self-protection
like the edge of the world,
coloring words which always
describe a state like a human murder.

my hang-ups rise, rejoicing.
--


pestilence,
the surfaces of victims
poured my blood into the plague.

how fragile my lungs .

i was caught and i am watched.

i am a hostage in my town.
i must have forgotten
the method of being human.

there will be people, things which are thought.
there is no freedom and i am as a bird.
--

a new small spire, a
supersized world.
a maniac in the eye of
everyone who was seen.
three story insanity,
things without uniformity looking at
those separated troops of victims;
various diversified insanities.

pulled heartlessly,
striking mutually.

lobotomizing a grasp of
the future dystopic people
removed in spite.
a feeling better than
being hurt.
--

it happens like summer:
midnight reaches to the night.

the corners of the sky find
a recognition curve.

crossing the vague world, history:
such a distant past time.
it could awaken us with the telephone,
with a metallic sawing voice.

a great war,
an accidental fall;
it is the sky,
it is a dusting off
of reliance.