Stupid infidel!
Transport your riches
To the lands of the believers.
For petroleum...
To make
The cellophane wrapper
That you will throw away,
When you buy a new mobile,
Even though your old one still works,
And you eat your mcdonalds,
And listen to Nicki Minaj
Infidel *****!
And drive in gas guzzle car,
As you throw the cellophane out window,
And sext your girlfriend.
And crash your car into telephone pole.
Wasting your life!

my grandmother too, is love.
in the weeks before she died
she writhed.
in pain and suddenly,
her attention shifting inexplicably
though no less pain it was in inner diastrophisms of the falseness carved in masks she shuddered forward all herself
at 97 and in shining reservoirs of urgency
she went through bouts of chanting:
'i love you' moans and 'so much, so much'
and 'thank you, thank you, i love you' for whatever hours
there were visitors
to hear.

her cat still slept on her head.
she with all her flaws expressed it to the point of drymouth,
perfecting mantras never known so well
her brink of death an apex in our hearts




















.

I was told by the mayor of promised elevators
a film starring my father
had been restored
to the city
archives-

                 that, so I could get there, the mayor had halted
for one day
the lowering of pianos.

pianos
not one of which
I would spot
on my way.

whirls and twirls
                                        and notes of stories
                                  your elegant dancing fingers
                                                       bring life to the air
                                                             ­      a harmony of beauty
                                                                ­              a melody with love
                                                            ­     keys of union
                                                       blending chime and cord
                                             with masterful
                                 precision, a euphony
                                           of bliss, a vibration
                                                of magical, brilliant
                                         passionate sensation
                             awe and elation
                                     grace and grandeur                                                         ­                
                                                ­                             sonata      
                                                                                    rhapsodies  
                                                                ­                                    notturno
                                                                ­                                               mazurka
                                                         ­                                                 fantasies                      
                                                                ­                                    scherzo  
                                                       ­                                                  dreamily
                                                        ­                                                         tranquil
                                                        ­                                                                 energetic
                                                     ­                                                      and tender
                                                        
       ­                                                                 ­                     with fire and life
                                                            ­              
                                                                ­               a frenzy of symphony
                                                        ­
                                                          assaults my senses

words signifying nothing
                             call questioning into question,
                                                       ­         make vociferous doubt a ruse
                                                            ­                                               played upon itself;
the diversion of division appears,
                                         an emptiness clothed with fullness,
                                                       ­                               the semantic womb called void.
there lies a trans-truth
                             between truths our grammar cannot harness,
                                                        ­                                    and a 'meta-truth' we imagine.          
trusting in the world that spoke to us,
                                                           we speak,
navigating riddles with nascent symbol-shifting
                                                 ­                   beyond speech,
                                                         ­                         revealing the artifice of words
                                                           ­                                                               an­d the mutability of true thought.                                                
to encompass only by dividing the always-already encompassing~
in gathering this,
                      there hints a ceaseless gathering