I left
in the middle
of a cloudless night
as a thief
to snatch one orphan
ray of moonshine
I was drunk
between cathedrals and labyrinths
looking for the crackling
sound of a tiny star
I wandered along this
heaven of dirt
peeking under every shadow
for a trace the hidden
mass of an eclipse
over bridges and blackouts
I followed the scent
of a spiraling infinity
never reaching its end
I awoke
with a black
layer of eternity
as a rag
over my sore
and swollen skin.
I saw a yellow house
a pillow
and a mother
that would not explain
the wind carried
the stars
like debris
my tongue’s tip
did not catch any
how the sadness
clings onto
the rustle of a leaf
I could describe
with lines and perspectives
the memory that
brought me here
beyond that memory
empty flashes of shadows
and hungry panthers of light
I saw
my hand
touch the world
like a
mirror
reflecting
a dance.
I’m tired
of the heights –
of all the philosophies
of stars
of all the cosmologies
of tears
my bed now
is the corner
of a passing second
I let the rain in
to drown
all the intelligent answers
I want to be
as ordinary
as a crumb of bread
on your sleeve
or as the mustache
that is shaven every day
I’m tired
of all the pompous
universes that we dream
and of the fantasy and sorcery
of constellated thoughts
my mission
now
is to dissolve as
bits of soup
in the drain
or
broken fingernails
in the dirt
the whirlpool of wisdom
comes to a halt
and I am
as cold and tame
as a shadow
lying
under a streetlamp
every minute
of every night.
Memory is the flower
that is like a mirror
of sorrow and tomorrow
I have taken
onto the nipple
of eternity
through all milk
accrued in the instant
my aim
then is the arrow
of long melancholy
shot from your vastness
of hollowness
this land
where the orange orgasm
of massiveness
clouds the surface
there in that silk
of milk
I surrender
like a borrowed
meaning
A moments
core wandering
many hands invented
touching me – us
moment + the inner uncertainty
touched by silhouettes
possibly a mother
whose age is light and clarity
in a moment
the thought of progress dies
a face remembers the rock
of the bone
a circle around the things
we know
beyond it
the heart of the things
we cannot love.
Don’t know how to drive.
Can’t even park
into huge chasms
of disquietude.
How can I comb
the hair of my
marble personality
under
the incredible wobble
of the universal flux –
my feet are spaghetti
and the air around
one gigantic block
of solid
impossibility.
I can’t breathe,
my incomplete dreams
have begun unfurling
in an inexplicable atmosphere
of suffering.
it is in that last
place
where life is surrendered
and in one flicker
we must die
absolutely
forgiving
beauty
for having existed
and now
been taken away
in one last
absurd breath
every moment
revolves around
that final moment
and if there is any meaning
it is this
the immeasurably short present
being swallowed by nothingness
all details
consumed and
blurred
it is this
single and
isolated tick
of time
where we live
and
unendingly
shiver.
In the breadth
of a human
hair,
to originate
in a
exiting ray
of sun;
all the elements
in the purpose
of extinction –
I have
faith:
existence fits
in a gulp
of now.
Meet
me
ageless
in
the
streets
we’ll
be bums
smoking
and
in flux
I don’t care
what the
price is
to
be
pure
as a
cigarette butt
burning out
in your
primordial
fingers
meet
me
to
announce a new
temple
for the
boundless:
a park bench
and empty beer
cans
at our
feet.
the shape of your neck
wrestling with my focus
I could have smiled
and twirled a spoon
in my coffee
to taste the dimensions
of your spiraling
lips
I’ve wondered
how your body
would resist
being against a window
freezing like dew
in the dawn
all that we study
to forget
the longitude
of an instant
laughter
– yours –
dripping
from above
and there is no
sky here
let’s repose
and dissolve
like heat
ripples
from a distance
over
an unfamiliar
path.
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