"I forget nothing, it is in this way that I belong to forgetfulness."
--Maurice Blanchot (from The Station Hill Reader,
"The One Who Was Standing Apart From Me")
I have failed at being: falsely ecto: morphic. Re: fugee of camp:
endo:meso hybridity. Re: figured into the inevitable: fai: lure of safe.
In the beg: inning: my mother was always crying: this is how I always
begin. A Mood: y thunder marks this meti: culous silence in me: A Man:
I: Fold intel: ligence: re-in: spires my unpro: mising hand. O mono: tone:
voice of mourning: on loan. Divinity spares the hanging tree: art:
iculating a grand: iose inquiry: swan's neck: backwards white 'C': dips
gently into green water: orange beak nibbling river's bottom's: murky
moss. I'm lost: in fame's nefa: rious game: Body image reigns: within
the eti: quit: te of dame's: dy: nasty: there's no truth in misery: only
a murky wound: re: fusing the slick: ness of narrative. This record's
skip: ping: my needle continues reading dust. A convenient lust: has
dragged me this far. Let's elect another literary patsy: to take the
millennial fall. Let's elect them: all: to re: in: vent an origin: al
inn: ocence.
I've slip: ped into another kind of begg:(inn)ing: where I at: tempt to
convince my self: of faith's lure. I lick it like a steady job: like a
ted: ious pig: like a stud: ious slob. Although causality is a current
theoretical crime: I've got time: to solve this rhyme: so let me dine on
Witt: gen: Steinian color: logic and Blanc: hot's perpetual disaster: an
orange mourning: drifting through time: is not an orange nor mourning:
and yet a vague sister of trauma's lime. But is there a non-visible lemon:
trapped in both?: A yellow connector: which constitutes the fruit blood of
orange and lime? The fact is: my body's a floating Pale: stine. A circu:
lar thin: king which infects a spi: ritual sin: king: men want money and
power and land more than the love of God. Even in Marra: kech's daily
multiplicity: I find myself: among seven severed sheep heads: a
seductive glossy red: marks an end to each neck of brown wool: each set of
black eyes staring toward the vacant God: which is the air: which is me:
while a war: ning song in Arabic: stop what you are doing and pray: you
are not more powerful than Allah:
I rush to lie: terrif: ied: on a st: ale hot: el bed: staring at the
clothes line of waving pink sheets: (blocks of ghost scents): not
moralistic: but more in the way of Fouca: uldian self rule. Staving off
his elusive mess: age: go back to your self: go back to your self: is
more difficult than loving Christ. I picture his bald head: with a lyrical
halo: cruising on acid: lurking and eyeing a plump ass: at Saint Marks
Baths: In 1978: when I was twelve: my body became: a game of logic:
with a patent. Trade's notion of grief is deceit. Bought's latent potion
of grace is receipt. I trade my rage for a patient chase: through the
reeds: the frag: (mented): rant garden breathes. I spray my syncopated
ink: like mace. We who have: adopted: the wander market: of a blinding
faithlessness: dragging our mind's: like a dead father: through dark:
sting of con: venient park. We have failed: at ba: (lancing) ob:
(sessions). O someone (among the siren hypnotic): call me to prayer.
Whoever's singing: through that micro: phone: diss: eminating guilt:
like insect spray: wafting all over the amne: sic city: you truly
understand: how to make a person's quirky soul bleed. An add: ictive
faith: less: ness: remembers: Billy saying: at least your father's a:
live! Like each alleged uni: verse: micro: scopic: ally: trapped in
dew: it is my sin: ister in: tent: ion to dis: turb: you. Every day:
(my hypo: thala: mic pink pea: swells with virile glee!): I'm new.