A normal kind of guy
Just the guy
No cosmologist
Sans Christian
******* the droplet suns
Distant in the blackened sky

Gotta 'and'er some
The bristled gristle
The cryogenic iris
Steel teeth gnashing
Right-toe left
Ardent in an autobiography

Good man
Soft man

Locomoted his GMC
to the Sea
Thought maybe
With precise aim he
could undertow away
paradise.

No pick-me-ups
In copper-channels
That Ionized the pick-up-truck
With archaea iron
that ugly duck
Reminiscent of the man
In all but--

A castaway
Stowaway
The man who never hesitates
Bop upon the interstate
Lost within
concritical maze

Shoring up
Going home
Giving up
Turned to stone
Marble chin
Solumn grin
Chlidren sing
Seeking wings
How'd he know
Where to go
Will he see
What it means?

He's the guy
The one with the lollipop lap
Licking the syrup off the lip
Of a sweet polished sapphire
Gin
And the kids
My god
They think he
ODYSSEUS
And his dog not yet
Dead but depressive in the gloom
Howling into the midnight grass
And the creatures that stalk
With their ******* youth

Soon their weight will hit the deck
And like a noose,
Break the joints
The planks of which would stress
And bend his eyes upon his head.

God willing
Should he be exhumed
His energies excape to the river
And float,
Penultimate,
into the sea.

pulling hair, mounting the scathed creature — feelingfulness straddles
the lovelorn fringe of shadows coming
to a feint.

under the canopy of the guava tree
i reminisce dissonance of claims

drunken recall or some ill fortitude
and borderless as it seems,
capturing the eye.

mirage dazzled, writhing on the
darling loam, fisticuff of birds
swarming ecliptic passages
finding a hidden codex somewhere
in archaea — women pulled from ribs
and men wrought out of tears.

We began with little mutations,
Harmless, or more so beneficial,
We adapted to our love,
With no methods of dispersal,
People thought we couldn’t get any closer,

But your behaviors changed and we began to isolate,
We were stabilized so I hoped for fusion,
But realized that overtime not even reinforcement could’ve helped,

We had our Kingdom set up,
And later we fell into a “Family”,
But you classified me too general,
Now I don’t know where I belong,

My feelings for you were like the Cambrian,
Sadly enough they became a catastrophe,
You started selecting,
Seeing me as worthless,
But I knew I am not one to select,

You looked at me like you’ve studied Phylogenetics,
I was at the most top,
But ended up at the bottom,
You were not natural, but neither was I,
What did our selections favor?

And our relationship turned into cloud and dust,
Sadly it collapsed,
And you left me imprints of lies and hurt,
And words preserved inside me like a cast,

You ingested away my feelings,
I was the pili so attached to you,
But you were an endospore resisting all of me,
You no longer knew what feelings were,

And to you, I was an annual,
Got replaced so quickly,
But I shed tears where the oceans have formed,
And supported you like the roots of trees,

But you were a virus,
A pathogen,
A parasite,
And I was the host,
Blinded by your toxins,

And my cells swelled in favor of you,
You offered me and I gladly took,
I thought I was an obligate,
Surviving off of you,
But I was too mindless to see the real you,

And I was like the Archaea,
Survived the harshest paths for you,
But with a single expression you crushed my world,
And like a Zygomycota you’ve molded our love away,

And sadly enough I couldn’t evolve,
With pain feeling like spikes inside,
I am no longer the magistrate of love,
And love is my killer.

Science is the understanding that nothing is lost,
But everything winds down.

There is no beauty in science, some said, no art.
I refused: Some, God, silent doctor waiting at the door-
I refuse.

There is only this tragic struggle:
Your heart, carrying all the implications
Of a watch left in desert, must eventually fail to keep time.
I would know why the stitches that wound our heels,
Blossoms of Achilles, are the heart’s most desperate gestures.

I want to look at your heart, hearts.
Aspiring a capella,
The down-singing choir in my hand, your heart reveals.

First, I must understand the laws of motion,
Wave-forms, cryptic anatomy of silence and not-silence,
Only in your mind, your body is a law unto itself.

First, the Archaea, frustrating enigma that never speaks.
“Where did you come from?” I asked.  
You smiled, as if I were asking
Who of us is more than water?
Why aren’t the stars alive?

Selfishly, our endosymbiosis called its questions as demands.
How can this work?
You look like someone I knew before…
I want.
You cannot leave.

I must submit to examination.
The machine will tell us if my heart speaks in murmurs,
But not if I am heavier than a feather,
Not if we did or didn’t know what we were doing.
You invited me in, and it was raining so I stayed.

We violated the lens, spoke too longingly of light.
You saw the defined spaces between the foam.
In a tangle of bed linens, I dreamed of pulsing Farandolae,
Paired for synapsis, migrating to the metaphase plate,
Ripped from sound’s embrace by their reluctant roots.


*I will be vaccinated against harm, but not shadows, not time.

what sick mutiny caused
eyes to dictate righteousness?
if you have a brown iris you
are not invited into valhalla
until you have paid your dues
to the karmic protein memorabilia.

i never checked how long this
pie will take to thermoregulate.

strands for animals and strands
for fungi and braids for plants
and still not one article on
archaea. push your hands together,
listen to the hair grow from
your knuckles. push your minds together
and listen to the neurons coiling
around each other, preparing to
reshape the face of the earth.