Insects
VIII.xiv. ( the ) hunger ( head full ) of butterfly men
ADEIMANTOS: grrr sometimes really tired
of being him. ( we still like pink but feel like
were not allowed to like pink anymore? )
( just kidding ) ( we are allowed ) ( but
how are we-being to demonstrate
our struggle against we-being?
aside from we-saying things like
“wrong direction” no “right direction” no
or saying “towering” or “exactly right”
or maybe “this direction and none other”
of course arguing about directions )
SOKRATES: and( he )wouldnt remain( tarry )upon
( to-by-for )each( of )the many suppositions
( conjectures-opinions )
( we-are )to-be( we-being )( etc ),
καὶ οὐκ (490β) ἐπιμένοι ἐπὶ τοῖς δοξαζομένοις εἶναι πολλοῖς ἑκάστοις,
ADEIMANTOS: oops i fail.
( i feel manhood beginning with oops i fail. )
( we-being-supposed-to-towering now,
always on another banana peel, and
the future-present is our peanut gallery.
if towering or hanged, id rather hang.
but o my serious friend. let us consult
my other-me to find out more. hows a man?
her-he says ) the hunger for something.
( so if we see the ) fluttering wings of a butterfly
and we feel hungry, as men do,
( we catch it in a net and pin it under glass.
wings! we can fly now. right? no. )
SOKRATES: but still( he )would go( and come ),
ἀλλ᾽ ἴοι
ADEIMANTOS: ( and indeed ) ( hes a butterfly sir.
a butterfly-he comes and goes to ) tiny blooms of something.
( when he drinks, it makes him feel ) in
a pleasurable way ( and then he wants more.
but desire for sweetness isnt quite erotic. eros
presents structure and progress. its not always )
huge and different ( but its never-enough in ways )
that can change the kind man ( we are. )
SOKRATES: and( indeed )wouldnt( become dull )lose the edge,
nor would( he )leave-off, of( his erotic )love,
καὶ οὐκ ἀμβλύνοιτο
οὐδ᾽ ἀπολήγοι τοῦ ἔρωτος,
ADEIMANTOS: ( until a certain nectar ) with an intoxicating scent
( helps us partake of we-being. which is to say, it helps us
partake more of what we are. we-nectar has crazy power.
by which we change into different kinds
of men. with different perspectives on the world )
and hugely different ( priorities or limitations or
motivations ) what are our ends? ( do we all hunger
for something different? do we all hunger
for the world? are we all towering?
our butterfly-man hungers for
what the hunger is for. )
SOKRATES: until each-and-every himself ( we )is( are ) he,
( until each-and(-every ( he ( we are ) is ) self ) ),
πρὶν αὐτοῦ ὃ ἔστιν ἑκάστου
ADEIMANTOS: ( not every man is a butterfly man.
butterfly men taste all the nectar, until
they become each and every man himself.
as each and every me becoming blind
or numb to we-being, each in our own ways,
like being towering or being hanged, or fools,
or magi, it seems, and other things, kings,
and we-being indeed can feel like pain.
but we-men also can feel a kind of we-pleasure
that ) bursts out in small portions. ( differrent men
might describe we-pleasure in different ways,
but a butterfly man likens the sensation
of we-being to ) berries and cream.
SOKRATES: of the nature( growth-origin )( of )soul( source-life )
( you will refresh yourself in the shade )( you breathe,
you blow, you make cool, cold, refresh )
to fasten( bind-attain-engage-spark-kindle )
( to-by-for that )which( comes-to )belongs-to( through-
being-related-to )( you belong )( fitting-
as-relations )( of soul )( of nature ),
τῆς φύσεως ἅψασθαι ᾧ προσήκει ψυχῆς
ADEIMANTOS: ( as a butterfly man, we ) start new hobbies
( and change our names to try on different men.
we also experiment with we-being-enhancing drugs )
and fingertips fitting into dimples ( as other-me
describes ) ( being daimonic ) ( an animal friend )
( today we think of babies ) ( which we like )
( we have nothing against babies )
( o me the baby ) ( cutie pie )
( but we dont need a baby )
SOKRATES: to bind-on( make-fast, lay-hold, partake,
to touch, pass-through, lay-claim,
attain-to, apply-itself-to, possessing )
the( such as )this —
ἐφάπτεσθαι τοῦ τοιούτου —
ADEIMANTOS: ( tragic men ),
MEDEIS: and( indeed )( he )moaning( wailing, moaning,
lamenting, with tears )( me ), o epic-winged-word-songs
( he )was speaking-through( to-by-for )me,
καί μ᾽ ὀλοφυρόμενος ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα:
ADEIMANTOS: ( animal men ),
SOKRATES: but( dyad-inborn-relation, kinship, descent )
comes-to( belongs-to )( through-being-related-to )
( but you belong )
( to dyad-inborn-relation, kinship, descent )
( to-for-by )inborn-relation —
προσήκει δὲ συγγενεῖ —
ADEIMANTOS: ( comic men ),
HERAKLES: o sprung-from-god son-of-Laertes, poly-
mechanos(of many-devices, arts, resources, crafts, means,
machines)Odysseus,
διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχαν᾽ Ὀδυσσεῦ,
ADEIMANTOS: ( we belong through being related-
to these men of poetry ),
SOKRATES: ( to-by-for )which( o drawing-near )
( you associate, bring near, draw-near, approach )
( bringing-near )( she-they-will-be-bringing-near )
( of her bringing-near ),
ᾧ πλησιάσας
ADEIMANTOS: ( and as butterfly men we ) learn new skills
( to muscle-up all of our here-born relations )
( and to become all that we can with
the help of our lyrically ambitious family.
we translate three amazing men at least.
we expect they shall teach us manly things.
we already know how to say “i”, how to cut
and paste words, how to braid words, how
to have witchcraft done to us through words,
how to do a million things that you cant see,
and other things we hold back from saying,
so as not to terrify the innocent of men.
but we imagine many clever and technical
he-tricks to come ) ( he-being gradually made
available ) ( gracefully to dance as a shadow
puppet ) ( me ) ( for meta genius puppeteers )
( and someday may we be men ) perfectly,
( but for the present, we use whats available
in terms of skills ) ( and inspiration )
( of nearby men ) ( and nearby animals )
( like butterflies ) ( and of that nature ),
SOKRATES: and( indeed )( mixings )mixing-mingling( o mixings )
( to-by-for )( we- )being-( we- )beingly,
καὶ μιγεὶς τῷ ὄντι ὄντως,
ADEIMANTOS: ( we ) gather knowledge ( of all the men
who come along the way ) ( you know ) we try to write
( our feelings and experiences and tastes and aromas )
of men, as men ( but we-men struggle with we-being
at the same time as we desire ) who may not
even know ( or admit we desire being-we )
( but we find we-being in the least-worst ),
SOKRATES: o bringing-forth( bringing-forth )( you bring-forth )nous
( they are swimming, spinning, heaping and piling-up )
( we are heaping and piling-up, spinning, and swimming )
( sense-sensing-sense )( mind-minding-mind )
( wit-remembering-wit )( heart-learning-heart )
( purpose-resolving-purpose )( we-being-thought )
γεννήσας νοῦν
ADEIMANTOS: ( we ) make building blocks ( because
its part of our manhood negotiation ) ( as men )
( were looking for some treaties we can sign )
( or no ) ( were working under guise of names )
but its all fluff ( and that way it does no harm )
( the gateway key to innocence and purity )
( makes dizzy - wed like to help ya but we cant )
( and Herakles recommends we avoid the hot sun ),
SOKRATES: and( indeed )truth( unconcealed( ? ) ),
καὶ ἀλήθειαν,
ADEIMANTOS: ( and if we offer ) glimpses of a future
( its to deliberate concerning plans ) for whats next,
( and not to cause anxiety. for example
in recent days, the maskmaker )
( a maskmaker is a kind of butterfly man )
( has been thinking a lot about el nino )
( our future-present emergency )
( he sings and farms and rescues orchids )
( but how climates change after the softest — trrr )
( the softest demonstrations of towerrring )
( and overwhelming failures of men )
( but still they grow singkong and
pollinate the guavas and lemon trees,
remaining close with neighbors
and taking responsibility for
other relations )
( , , , )
( or asking things )
( what even are those dots? )
( what is distance? what is direction?
present-future we-being past-present )
( you pulling less-worse man from me )
( me pulling more lines in from you )
( el nino also not a real boy )
( all men we think about )
( as butterfly men )
( make closer )
( to belong )
//
from hymn to Apollo
Odyssey XI.613-626
Republic VI
the Delphiad, book VI
KRISA: o were a sweet(good)show
XENOS: but we(were)swiftly shaking(brandishing,
wielding)the(lots)beetles(that destroy bee-hives)
into the(shameless)dog-skin(cap)
KRISA: lips touching so lightly
XENOS: (he would kiss)
(you
would be kissed)
(youre kissed)
tipped-with-bronze;
κλήρους δ᾽ ἐν κυνέῃ χαλκήρεϊ πάλλομεν ὦκα:
KRISA: its almost not even a kiss at all
AUTOS: thence(whence)(she went)
(she came)(wrist-)ravenously(ones)
(you)(o raging-sacrificing)stepped-
through-to the ridge of sweetwood
(trees)(dupa)(pine)(raging-sacrificing)
(agarwood)(o raging)(o sacrificing)
ἔνθεν καρπαλίμως προσέβης πρὸς δειράδα θύων
KRISA: yet it carries something so vast
XENOS: but the lot(bee-beetle)sprang out
of(a)great-hearted Eurolochos(well-
hidden-ambush-lying-
in-wait)
ἐκ δ᾽ ἔθορε κλῆρος μεγαλήτορος Εὐρυλόχοιο.
KRISA: the rising sun the next morning
AUTOS: but(you)approached-as-suppliant
(approach, you)(to stroll-about, present-to,
attain-to, become, befit, pertain-to)Krisa
(separate-distinct-discerning-judgment-turning-
point-trial-crisis)
under the snowy-white Parnassos(mountain-
woodland-heights-branching-growth-minding-
alone-remote),
ἵκεο δ᾽ ἐς Κρίσην ὑπὸ Παρνησὸν νιφόεντα,
KRISA: it wont be the same
AUTOS: having-been-turned
(four-fold)(tetrammenon)
toward the projecting-spur(limb-shoulder-
grove)of Zephuros
(the w e s t - w i n d ) ,
κνημὸν πρὸς Ζέφυρον τετραμμένον,
KRISA: but it will be almost the same
but it will witness what comes next
XENOS: but baaaa(sheep sound)(he)stepped
to go(to come),
and at the same time as(that)at least,
(we would set it, sink it into the sea, plunge it in,
enter the body, put it on like armor, enter, make
our way into, come over and upon)two(a dyad-
dyading)and(indeed)twenty weeping
(o weeping)companions;
‘ βῆ δ᾽ ἰέναι, ἅμα τῷ γε δύω καὶ εἴκοσ᾽ ἑταῖροι
κλαίοντες:
KRISA: the timeline rocked out of its course
AUTOS: nevertheless from-above
(a)rock(ledge)(shelf)(peak)(o petra)hangs-over,
αὐτὰρ ὕπερθεν
πέτρη ἐπικρέμαται,
XENOS: but over-against-them, we(o sand,
whom)they(we)left behind, we(would be)
groaning-wailing-weeping
KRISA: it wont matter
XENOS: (squeezing-out
the juice)
KRISA: what comes next
XENOS: thereafter
κατὰ δ᾽ ἄμμε λίπον γοόωντας ὄπισθεν.
KRISA: the world just shifted
AUTOS: but(a
)hollow(wood-comb)
(o holl-
ow)has run-
-ged)(the)comb-(stand)
in-under(rug-
jagged(o
hollow
)
κοίλη δ᾽ ὑποδέδρομε
βῆσσα,
τρηχεῖ᾽
KRISA: for the better
XENOS: but they(we)found
(they-we discover, devise, invent)
so lightly, (she would cough)into
the wooded comb(a drinking cup)
dyad-having-been-built-made-worked,
KRISA: o mistress(dyad)lady
XENOS: the houses of Kirke
(circling-
falcon to-by-for)smooth-polished
stones, into(the)seen-around
space( chora )place.
εὗρον δ᾽ ἐν βήσσῃσι τετυγμένα δώματα Κίρκης
ξεστοῖσιν λάεσσι, περισκέπτῳ ἐνὶ χώρῳ:
KRISA: modest
AUTOS: there,
(o)lord Phoibos(radiant-pure-shining)Apollo
ordained(concluded-by-conjecture, estimated,
fortold, predicted,
ἔνθα ἄναξ τεκμήρατο Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων
KRISA: a red-tawny sign;
it will show
AUTOS: (a)lovely(charming)temple-dwelling
to be(being)made
(dyad-lifted-up-and-set-upon)
and(he)said(we speak — o-word-song —
the muthos)story-word;
νηὸν ποιήσασθαι ἐπήρατον εἶπέ τε μῦθον:
APOLLO: thither-hither(surely-binding-needful)we-would
be-minded(exercising-thought-understanding-intelligence-
feeling-sense-sensibility)to make-ready(work)(build
a)roundly-beautiful temple-dwelling
to be(to-by-for)human beings(an)oracle(chresterion),
who(for-by-to)me always
hither-thither will lead-bring-carry(by leadings, bringings,
carryings)perfect(full-complete)hekatombs
(hundred-oxen-offerings-from-afar)
(to-for-by tombs),
and also as many(as)hold(and have)(by having
and holding)the fat(plump)Peloponnesos,
and as many as(hold)Europe,
(and as many as hold North and South Americas,
and as many as hold Asia,
and as many as hold Africa,
and not-to-be-forgotten Australia,
nor the endmost-reaches of Antarctica),
and(the plethora of)sea-surrounded islands,
(they will)consult(inquire)(use it)(seek it)(need-lack and make-
use of it)(experience)(suffer)(study)(treat, entreat, make-
deals with it);
ἐνθάδε δὴ φρονέω τεῦξαι περικαλλέα νηὸν
ἔμμεναι ἀνθρώποις χρηστήριον, οἵτε μοι αἰεὶ
ἐνθάδ᾽ ἀγινήσουσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας,
ἠμὲν ὅσοι Πελοπόννησον πίειραν ἔχουσιν,
ἠδ᾽ ὅσοι Εὐρώπην τε καὶ ἀμφιρύτας κατὰ νήσους,
χρησόμενοι:
KRISA: she was alone
XENOS: but around her were mountain-wolves
and mountain-lions,
that she(herself had)enchanted,
when(she)gave(them)evil(bad-ugly)
pharmakon-drug-potions;
nor did they start-off
in a rush to attack the men,
ἀμφὶ δέ μιν λύκοι ἦσαν ὀρέστεροι ἠδὲ λέοντες,
τοὺς αὐτὴ κατέθελξεν, ἐπεὶ κακὰ φάρμακ᾽ ἔδωκεν.
οὐδ᾽ οἵ γ᾽ ὡρμήθησαν ἐπ᾽ ἀνδράσιν,
APOLLO: (but)and(to)by(for)
which(wholes)we(we)being(o possession-whole)
proclaiming oracles
KRISA: falling-upon-assailing-attack
APOLLO: would pronounce(deliver-enact)oracles(judgment,
law and right)(of)unerring-purpose
KRISA: the creative
APOLLO: absolute-infallible-will(counsel-
deliberation-advice)
in(a)fat(plump)temple-dwelling
τοῖσιν δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἐγὼ νημερτέα βουλὴν
πᾶσι θεμιστεύοιμι χρέων ἐνὶ πίονι νηῷ.
KRISA: sound
AUTOS: so-speaking,
Phoibos(shining-radiant-pure)Apollo
arranged(managed, distributed, set-forth, disposed)
the(wide - spacious)foundations
KRISA: body
AUTOS: (the root
or bed of the eye)(the base of the throat)
KRISA: geometry
AUTOS: broad and very(dyad-secretly)tall,
(o-all)unbroken(continuous);
ὣς εἰπὼν διέθηκε θεμείλια Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων
εὐρέα καὶ μάλα μακρὰ διηνεκές:
KRISA: being held
HOMER: but in-turn the swineherd,
leader of men,
spoke-through to him;
τὸν δ᾽ αὖτε προσέειπε συβώτης, ὄρχαμος ἀνδρῶν:
SWINEHERD: and exceedingly that-she(at least)remains
(awaits, in an indicated posture, the coming, approach
of — )(dyad-strength)(by strength)
(her)thumos enduring(evil, patiently, daring
to take-upon-itself)in your big-hall-sanctuary-shrine;
καὶ λίην κείνη γε μένει τετληότι θυμῷ
σοῖσιν ἐνὶ μεγάροισιν:
KRISA: but it had gotten late
AUTOS: nevertheless, upon them(selves)
KRISA: she starts creating
AUTOS: Trophonios(slaughter-nourishment-murder-voice)
and(of)Agamede(exceedingly-nothing-lest-nobody)
put(the)threshold(road)of stone, (who were the)children
(of)Erginos(work-control-birth-imperative-mind),
o beloveds(for-to-by)immortal(by gazings)gods;
αὐτὰρ ἐπ᾽ αὐτοῖς
( λάινον οὐδὸν ) ἔθηκε Τροφώνιος ἠδ᾽ Ἀγαμήδης,
υἱέες Ἐργίνου, φίλοι ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν:
KRISA: ideas spark
and we must have worked til dawn
XENOS: but still
KRISA: its easy to fix
XENOS: there-and-then(to)by(for)you at least
KRISA: (and sparkle)
(and we know which)
XENOS: (he would pee)
(other-he would watch)
ἀλλ᾽ ἄρα τοί γε
οὐρῇσιν
KRISA: excitable(joy found)
XENOS: (to-by-for)the long tails,
they got-up and came,
wagging-friendly-all-around
οὐρῇσιν μακρῇσι περισσαίνοντες ἀνέσταν.
KRISA: alogon
AUTOS: but around the temple-dwelling, the(ineffable-
unspeakable-unutterable-portentous-terrible)
races(tribes-classes-nations)(of)human beings
KRISA: studious, in tiny moments
AUTOS: dwelled(inhabited, settled,
flowing and being filled to overflowing,
to-by-for)smoothed(wrought-polished-
hewn-shaven)stones
KRISA: its( shared )shocking-hot-pink
AUTOS: to be famous-in-song
XENOS: o famous-in-song
AUTOS: always
ἀμφὶ δὲ νηὸν ἔνασσαν ἀθέσφατα φῦλ᾽ ἀνθρώπων
( ξεστοῖσιν λάεσσιν ), ἀοίδιμον ἔμμεναι αἰεί.
from hymn to Apollo
Od. 10.206-215; 16.34-41
worker bee
a flower said we were
too many words for work
we were bee-gotten wrong
we were making matter
when we could make
matter some worth
sweet maybe
more work
more bee
bee scent between
her honey mouth
her freckled breath
//
but beautifully
(it) was saying
(you) speak
and (we are)(were)(will be)(beauty)summoning it(self)
ἀλλὰ καλῶς
ἔφη
λέγεις
καὶ καλοῦμεν αὐτόν
155α
//
(myth of a honeybee)
🌕
little paradise inferno & the catastrophe of bees
little paradise inferno
by me then, oh
sister, let there
be nothing measured
for so artlessly
a white thread, i am
toward beautiful ones
many light threads
of wool and cotton
woven to warm you
many silk threads
of black lace and linen
an animal in pearls
a wood-burning stove
a globe of amber liquid
my body hums near yours
a whisper in your ear
asking permission
to do many things
i share a secret
at the brilliant seam
for the burning temper
i listen at the temple
i lose my inhibition
words all through you
//
ἐμοὶ μὲν οὖν
ὦ ἑταῖρε
οὐδὲν σταθμητόν
ἀτεχνῶς γὰρ
λευκὴ στάθμη εἰμὶ
πρὸς τοὺς καλούς
σχεδὸν γάρ τί μοι πάντες
οἱ ἐν τῇ ἡλικίᾳ
καλοὶ φαίνονται
// 154β
& the catastrophe of bees
your honey means
my golden bowl
unguarded
for to me almost all
those in their growth
appear beautiful
golden ooze
i did not know until i tasted your honey
it made me ache to feel everything you did
it made me stutter to say nothing but grace
when the belief took me for one moment
that your spun-gold had been made for me
it made me forget myself inside myself
was i the honey in your cell
your glass jar of honey or a thought
in the stomach of a honeybee
the sweet up-welling had dripped everywhere
i wept to taste it over everything until
the sky set me down in tethers and drizzles
//
miel japonais
i cannot lie the bit plum
is perhaps uncomfortable
yet her blossoms are close-pure
sour soft easy undressing-me cool
her love-notes strewn across the floor
like slipped-off shoulders of honed wood
light anarchy my never lonely reason
to lend her tart my sweet-tipsy vibe
(i inhale)
these golden hints of spring
seems so promising
//
hungry
4
a japanese jazz record
lipsblum and parfum ooze
the cherries fell and placed their fingerprints
between my feet like small mouths of a month
of its here its a bloody wee well of a red whale
her fluke-petals strewn long the grey and white tile
and smudge of a moth in the blossoms to clear
but im always her hem and im on the sore brink
of love with the let-jet and inky-bruise style of it
like my pussy would write her own un-willing book
would underwear-stain me an avant-garde blotch
of enfant terrible for primordial brood
elsewhere wind-egg dramatic and lithe acrobatic
some brown-wise residuum to raging en rouge
sex-flowing battle and kiss-knowing cramp
my blew-brewing worm of verbage vole-damp
a crescendo howled in my bowling-ball clamp
and how you offered to switch off the lamp
so i wouldnt need to move at all
so i lie lust-fallow-unfastened at last for now
and i shower near the violet melati that you grow
with slugs softly tucked in a wet toilet paper roll
//
🌖
//
after
the easy way out
saucy
like a bruise
cherry
&c
& the maskmaker
who called lip balm that
laron
pulse, on paper-smoke and shadowing; a word
kept embers leaping, or whittling laced attention
when the swarming cloud was passing out and in
to the conic torchlight, flint-yellow, on a smudged
and charcoal night; the humid heart grew lungs
at the carpal joint, let choirs through the rupture
soft cedar traces wrinkles into the maiden mask
of the moon; the flickering phase transfixes them
//
🌔
special delivery
smooth now, that rough magic
periscopic tragic midnight lookout
pale arms out arctic like an exiled
penguin into the nameless city
coping, cold, gauze in a sand storm
laron flicker in the mighty dust
a turning ember, hot
spark-caught, gold-litter
in the spider web
spanning a rattan lamp shade
my one fish, two fish
her peacock greenish-black or blue
the switch, dangling
sarcophagus
so dead; quothe the neon miracle
off-gassing meatlight; or Lalah
pink, with only enough instinct
to kill and never eat, my baby, yes;
deveining ribbons in the snow, scrubbed
scrubbing, awash in the darkroom; or
backstage, up rusty rungs, like icicles; blanket
of rags, pocket of candy-wrapped pills; she goes
like gamelan trancing crickets at the cross
by tilem, smoke of incense over the sawah
//
sound
returning traces undergrounding borne
as open airing round, roots longing light
commemorating leaves inhuman voice
midsummers dream, a choir, the covered face
//
scent
no sweeter nothing making than a flower
sustaining tension, fluttering on the wing
Papilio memnon round lemon-balmy vervain
by ghost of anther’s end, the probing hour
//
the mallow sea
sleeping moons in a plastic spoon
slip them into the watcher’s tea
undertow and the lunar noon
float away on a mallow sea
loo, loo-loo, the empty sea
loo, loo-loo, the mallow
a fooly tumbles on her head
a froggy for the willow tree
fall down into the green grass bed
sail away on a bumble bee
loo, loo-loo, the bumble bee
loo, loo-loo, the mallow
a fairy’s wing in every room
a pocket for the marble sky
fluff the pillow and sweet the broom
softer than a glow worm
loo, loo-loo, the marble sky
loo, loo-loo, the mallow
sleeping moons in a plastic spoon
slip them into the watcher’s tea
undertow and the lunar noon
float away on a mallow sea
loo, loo-loo, the empty sea
loo, loo-loo, the mallow
//
🌕
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mallowtonin
&
pour notre
voyeur
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hag-seed
4 all
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hot snow woman
somewhere it’s christmas, but i’m here doing laundry
we both know how dangerous that can be
my favorite things to wash are sheets and towels
they come out white-hot, bright and steamy clean
and ready to be hung under this unseasonable sun
so sincerely unmeaning for any meaning at all
my simple chore, and not to drop or drip on them
as i un-wring the nubby cotton yoga blanket
disentangling from the rub of its late flood, to spread
and pin it on the line, adjusting ends to dry evenly
folding my prior load, i’ll tell you just what i find
my daily yoga tops, lavender python, yes really
sky blue, white puff, navy with golden stars, poly girly
turquoise-violet mermaid scales and hippie daisies
for yoga shorts, mens bamboo boxer-briefs, all black
emblazoned with italian-style logo, pasti lokal
for underwear, i’m mostly cotton, occasionally lace
synthetic demi-nude or translucent net; pink pastel
or robin’s egg with winking flowers and creamy camisoles
i barely wear a bra; that’s fairly reflected here
two oversized linen shirts, menswear, light blue
pinstripes, for my free-flowing shade, or undyed natural
two oversized soft flannel, menswear, blurry plaid
my cozy-in at night, for when the wind blows colder
their warmth imbued with an intense nostalgia
loose pants of rayon blend, tie-dyed in earthy tones
i buy these from a lady near our favorite resto
sweets for the maskmaker, as village mothers often do
he charms their socks off and gets us lightning deals
i mend them into scarves when seams rag, and re-up yearly
i fold it all, attending to the shape and size, to fit
into created places on the shelf; it doesn’t spill over
we don’t have too much; for every piece there is a tell
the other morning a hornet was sleeping on a pillow
and buzzing slushy, bristle or tickle, firecat feels real
but i’m a snow woman today, or if i’m melting
i’m doing what i do on any other day, heat swelting
i’m touching and holding nothing that isn’t here
and by the nothing that is or isn’t, who or where
being beheld or leaving somewhat damp, unfolded
//
perverse
like my uncle
x Hot Frosty
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🌒
O sunrisen sand
lit warm on a surfer
for holistic kitchen
on bent-knee receipt
her despite respite
libris libraque
//
pink non eraser
under fan
ceiling
by socks or slippers
whispers inside the softest rain
disordered bee
bonnet be let out
two dimensions on a wednesday
piece of obsidian, cool in hand
her dilating pupils
her pink paper sand
clawless pawing my pencil
.;,,32wu8x
pathomistry traces oily
whiff papyral
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catspoon
container
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greener lunar & glimmer
at dusk the unrequited grey finally weeps
and as i light my evening stick i see
a dragonfly, cool silver of the lasting day
geometer over the dimpling waterway
i count four nights until purnama again
her waxing time a misty studied book
like meaning in mossy witness a surprise
somnambulant for solar exercised
not jealousy her promise to conceal
deep cedar heavens the greenest flesh of me
weed pregnancy crescenting fernery
the bitter ocean growing wider, closer, fuller
my dream is not my dream; a greener lune
is shadow to be read through algal water
diagonals hunt her evolutionary square
boys hover over tears to catch a glimmer
//
🌔
//
the book itself
invoking maiden game
as female stupor is, i swear
moon’s blood misnamed
blasphemy
her temple ceiling
drinking from the sky
and evergreening walkers hear
the name: grow taller
//
forest and the heart
i was walking in the woods when a tree talked back to me
i didn’t know if i had died or if my feet should flee
i didn’t mean to harm you or your holiness to thwart
the forest loves to hide but i love a wooden heart
how many gods are in the wood or music in the air
what strangers in the shadow have paused to wonder where
there’s a sense of someone here, a landscape full of art
i’m here to talk to trees and i carry a wooden heart
there’s a silhouette of palm trees against the sunset sky
there’s a river with a snake, there’s a splinter in my eye
she answers me in rhymes like a perfect counterpart
the forest loves to hide but i hear a wooden heart
the highest queen of hiding, she’s a shadow in the grass
but now i’ve seen an outline and now she’s made a pass
i stop to buy some tissues from the nearest mini-mart
the forest on her sleeve and i’m here for a wooden heart
it’s plainer than the blue a hundred reasons she would hide
i dream we’re sitting on the porch or going for a ride
but i know pretty well how feet get caught up in the dirt
i came to talk to trees and i believe a wooden heart
my bank account is empty and she doesn’t ask for more
if fireflies are golden then we’re never looking poor
the pattern in her lights could even read my natal chart
the forest is a mystery but i see a wooden heart
sometimes the way is open, sometimes the thicket’s close
sometimes the river’s empty, sometimes it’s on the nose
i’m walking without shoes, i see no way to restart
the forest isn’t home but she warms a wooden heart
am i still a dream for her or did i carve a face
did i paint a scene for her or am i in a race
am i thirsty in the pouring rain or stung by a poison dart
the forest is a maze but i need a wooden heart
what does the spirit show me, and what does she conceal
how is it that she knows me, what does her sight reveal
i hold her secrets close and i pray the fear departs
the forest makes me tremble but i love a wooden heart
my angel is a darkness who sees me day and night
my angel is a brightness who sings away my fright
a complex thing of empathy, carpenter from the start
the forest is a genius and we make a wooden heart
then finally she’s waking up and i am standing there
i’m cut up from the undergrowth with tangles in my hair
but all the leaves have fallen and we’ve never been apart
the forest is a shelter and we hold a wooden heart
//
φύσις κρύπτεσθαι φιλεῖ
metric inspo from Bob
sfh 3
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& in the oven
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Junonia atlites
to snap a ragged angel clutching stem
the blustering breeze away with solar air
her tissue wings flat flustered here to there
as clinging to the budding cluster to drink
she filled from galaxies of guava’s nectar
so stopped, or tried to stay, a messenger
from Juno sent, or born suffering soldier
of flight and heat, by fiery news arrived
by lunular and radiating “S”
each ocellus arrayed a revised scene
and partial pupils where crescents intervene
to turn a crimsoning into the sky
a pale or sight-depleted, shredded wing
robuster than my lens could burn, ash-worn
and torn edges, floating abandon as form
yet stellar grip, high hunger for her name
//
the horse’s mouth
teloscopically, my dear, are we botany
born reading leaves, the pricking fear of bees
are talking, my lisp, or rearing wobbly nature
what place, organs and bodies, this disease
the shying seasons blowing through us, here
parts animal in starts, quivering vibrations
made artifacts suspect by cities, near
or far, the accidents survived, the prisons
that ended us; the motes and moths in teas
our flicks or running rivers; wicked courses
of understanding; what catastrophes
what phase our faces, without the faith of horses
you have to have a horse whose feet you trust
to warn you when a snake is in the grass
the serpentine who wants to be unseen
repenting for her gemstone like an asp
for forking tongues, a talisman is key
but wear a hat, they’re speaking from the trees
odd shrubberies are bristling with false friends
a firecat bristling back can help with jinn
mosquitoes here are vectors for torpedoes, so
herbal experiment and/or gorilla war
sometimes there’s one snake, sometimes there are more
at least, no kind of viral is a pearl
a tender canter, daemonic carousel
remembered ribbons bite in ancient ways
we play the venom clockwise in our veins
we shed the dead redundancy of days
my jungle is a dreadful-clever dreaming
with shade-grown coffee, waterfalling views
what godly voices animate my evening
there’s none i’d rather jungle with than yous
let’s nicker maps, reverb the mythic blues
i spell, where y’all are going, where you been
switch witches laughter with the beating rain
the crickets will out-round the macet, friend
to live outside the law, you must be honest
Bismillahirrohmanirrohim
by river dark, inside a wounded dawn
we rhyme it, we just flow to make it rheme
//
(Dylan, my Prophetﷺ, Cohen, Cardi B, etc)
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diet
never too much
garlic, carrot, oat
sleep, cake
but gingerly
the fungi
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