by all that's hyperextended, so and so
what follows.
not to drop the silverware of stars--
thereupon to clink and clank the
livid plates of one more pair of mortified
eyes.
by the great ultimatum of eat or erase,
erase binds its space as to keep...
let X=sustenire.
Not I, said he--I said he...to portion
my feast as to serveth you and you.
yet portion met no hungering space in
that fateful offering.
so portion to portion ungiven...
my feast assumed its rot--laid waste
to its Age.
I'm as soon ****** as forgiven,
and so are you.

a snowflake

kicks at shape

on its way down,

to create space

in a white room.

a rose opens its

mouth to shed the

blood of that blessing.

the world is
full of
people who can't
make eye
contact.
so you stare
them down
all at
once,
and come out through
the back
of their heads.
keep going baby girl,
blink back
their
divided houses.
follow the waving beam of
light.
you vital Queen,
slouch in
your throne
and
scratch your
******!
make mercy beg
for your
forgiveness,
leave your
scent upon
the "blind deaf
stone".
sell *** back to
itself, if it
cheapen the
thrall of your
ecstasy.
yours is the only
dance i know
truer than
matter,
as matter.
you lost your
mind to smaller
ones, who could
not find proof of yours.

time is a terrible dancer,
a puppet strung between
two points.
never a toe gone unstepped upon.
infinite and infinitesimal
gradations
attempting strange and
awkward combinational
movements.
supreme magic
in the making-unmaking,
attend the corner of the eye--
that twitches the straight line.
where that apparent crookedness dies
into the misperceived  object.
time bent for you, because you quickened--
you caught the puppet's foot
****** into a black hole.
time is a wonderful dancer.

love is what you are,
as love is what you want.
so the atom splits and congeals.
with a force fit to burst irony's
blood.
to out-red, red--pale to the blue.
an unexpected kiss, dead on.
these
oceans of mirrors facing
one another,
like no other.
no other.

i can make
this spinning
rock lose
its train
of thought.
to
endlessly
skip across
a zen sun.
being
one
of
its
golden
boys.

these barking steps crush
the rind of their fruit.
stumbling
on a stairway spun to a cloud.
flaying
the meaty gorge of the heart--
the spittle of invective left
to crust.
all cover to be taken, has
been taken--the hour hails!
were ice stone,
and inner climate house to
transparency.
a Promethean liver would not soak
in drink, barely dull to its
ritualized beak.
the stars align a word that
has gone back on itself, good
to the forever of its reason.
the more heavy-handed a man,
so twice the force be struck...
humble made in the pooling
daze of tears.