Process
by windsor-i-guadalupe-jr
1 Method:
Witness nothing but the body
hurtling at best, if not dilapidated.
Cusped in space, never held.
Behead the music,
if not the conductor.
It will happen when everything has
expired in the threshing.
Wring me pure, make me delicate,
chain me in the wrongness.
Embody this figurine pierce it with stem
break it gossamer as petals imperiled ad infinitum
sleek as a metaphor rising from rinsed perfume.
2 Chance Operation:
Say when she caresses / this mired setting:
it is of preparation.
Seize this mean when preparatory.
Turn you as inside-out cleared from veiling.
In a vitrine you wish to be freed from,
examined, never granted meaning;
Mundane the discovery.
A throb of fever gone from tepid bath
walking into space, abled.
Acute blunder is study, wash me with theory.
Sullen is the word for it, entitled to acute error.
Say when it ceases,
tranquilized. Never waking up, fastens to
3 Dreamwork:
Always still is the heart.
I envy the water midstream. Fingers partition
when infiltration is sure of. A conscious removal
merits the continual of lobotomies.
Augur this dim presence, make it raw again
infallibly, make it my body. Forge my skin out of
and listen to it. Feel the drone of this machine
making space less tolerable. This begins
an end, but of what pursuit is this here
always a vision Blinded by definition
away from here?