those days when you do not want
to cast a shadow and incidentally
curse the sun
those days when you want not
to want and are lassoed to
noose thought

that demands no thought before it
and you comply as a lowly
lowly lowly lowly peon
that shines as bright
as the light reflects

we blame comatose feet
that wait for messiah
to point to anywhere
so we can march to
some charming being's
conviction

these days discretion weighs down
like a thousand gazes to oblivion
every decision weighted,
scaled, calculated,

gridded, girded, designed
quantified, and made practical--
so a yes is a concession to doomsday
and a no is a merely coy means of leverage

we, the first myth,
I, the second,
they, the third,
will destroy
(in such
sequence)

until i learn
to craft the forms
that form me

dreams

i was taking a vocal class with a guy that looked like neil patrick harris
we were going to autotune twinkle twinkle little star
the class went outside and it looked like the mission in sf
the cops rolled up and someone in blue told us some spiel
about illegal immigrants in front of someone's dead wife
they asked me if i would be willing to carry her body
i froze and the husband carried her body to my car anyway

sensation
awaits our summoning
our arrival
our reference

our focus
to be christened
to the moment
anointed to what
we deem sacred
the holy matrimony
that holds this world
apart

the firmaments await our words
that follow divinated paths that
our ancestors did blaze wild eyed
upon horizons and dreamt of
planting the pure stake upon
pure vision and having riches
pour through them for generation

our fathers and mothers had fought
the good fight, the prolonged quest
to offer opportunity unbeknownst
to those below--to hold our children
unto the heavens and have them see
what we could never see and explain
to us, dearly, what lies ahead, beyond,
forever--the lush sensation that causes
us to rise, continue, in fortitude, having
ecstasy in the pursuit of ecstasy--
for we have within us methods of
the eternal life that does not exist
beyond thresholds

but within
our own walls
awaiting our summoning

all we do is dance around our mistakes
until they grab us by the ankles
and begin to
speak for us

until they
speak of us
as some lesson
of some boundary
to never cross or
some direction
to always head

faith in your inhales

faith
underneath the tongue
rough ridges of sensation

the company of chemicals
that have words lose their swell
to ease the vision of blood that
drains through abyss

faith
in comforts pulses
through the timid flesh
that craves any force
that offers form

every moment unto itself
devoured by the next
detail that shout
inane things
carried by nothing
draining into the abyss

unrepentant worlds
forced into war
for your faith

anything as anchor
that prevents you
from falling into
yourself

your abyss of forgetfulness
and the shadow it weaves
you loom and mistake
for the world you despise

the world from which you run
starved for the eager things
that bring you to life

faith in your inhales
faith in your reassurance
that produces nothing
but your hunger

cave paintings

early prototypes of

what is now human

consumed a large

amount of energy

to fuel their massive

brains

they probably knew everything

after the seventh handful of berries

they looked each other in the eye

and started singing the blues

as their brains incubated their

souls faster than ours ever could

and they all beamed on without us

evolutionary scientists grin about

how we're so keen on keeping our tippy toes

on the earth that just may star giant reptilians

that eat human babies--is it wrong to wonder

the giant vision of clarity they saw--what

magick phrase they spoke in unison

that gave their flesh the synchronicity

for their souls to be born forth as gods

to which the greeks spoke

and the planets danced

and procession arose

and kosmos guided?

the earth of the heavens

people forget the heart
that stirs the blood
that shares our steady breath
--we think only of our minds
with our minds
but forget our belly
that rules as sire
--of our thoughts but
with only thoughts,
of ourselves, with only ourselves

ah, such masters of oblivion!

our every vision
tirelessly conquered
with stakes of names
supplanted on entities
upon boundaries
rhythmatic that weave
harmonic intervals
that either build the walls
of paradise or enforce
the dissonance of hell

our thoughts forget their origin
as we forget our origin
as our heart beats steady
to our breath in cadence
upon the earth,
of the heavens
amen