Verses/Curses
prayer for puasa
the hardest thing for my puasa
and i still struggle with it
is not the hunger — i have been made
perhaps too comfortable with hunger
but its the eating again
its my takjil classic impasse
its the opening of my daily fast
and it would break me every time
my very body would refuse
my hardened lips just wouldnt soften
my sharpened teeth just wouldnt chew
my strangled throat just wouldnt swallow
so sitting parched-mouth after sunset
before my three precious dates
how angrily would i demand the cause
my why and what am i myself against
my self surrendered in survival
my self surrendered in nourishment
my self surrendered to the sunless day
my self surrendered to the slow care of the moon
and surely there remain deeper hungers
and surely colder winters to come
but Lord — please let me not refuse
your mercy when the spring appears
//
matter
the season leaves
the city leaves
the bitter ending leaves
i stay
i stay so hard
i drop my taproot
i plunge into the sphere
there was a sentence here
there was no choice in the matter
i am a matter of survival
(fasting)
//
fasted desire (lay me)
her demiurge reviews the urge
from which amaze tactfully de-mazed
earth-maker of my demi-glazed
eye
for sighing to be held — ready
your valley to be seen — surfaced
used witless by the restless sea
(lay me
in memory)
//
for not a place
et al.
proper fast (& thanks)
dont give your body up for nought
so reads the rhetors scroll on love
now i forgot just who it was
that stole my breath in body bound
yet i recall the lovers nought
who let me give my breath away
//
fast by you
body of grass
black earth body
body of an ask
three billion years
four billion blades
body yet new
when i lie still
fast by you
you find me
//
immaculate ooze
until discomforts of
deep oceanic trigger
a sighing spring
when the abyssal ooze
in-twined fecundity conceived
our dark-bodying infant
(of constant cry)
//
🌗
recollection of an ask
on that fateful summer day
when we escaped the tiring city
by silly-door in set-down wall
my love — were we un-born
//
in just the time
i sleep in a living bed
its not clean but keeps me fed
its a cradle for my head
while i wait the one i wed
i sleep in a shady tree
i love rumors of the sea
i refuse the military
i know you will come for me
i sleep in the bed you made
im headstrong but im afraid
a face could change or be remade
in just the time i was asleep
i sleep under miles of ice
drill the oil melt the dice
i sleep in a grain of rice
for my heart you paid a price
//
date night and an opened fast
the bistro grows further away with every date
the one at the end of the island where we go
to visit our phantom habit for public hunger
your eyes say its not fair to look with my pit
but the opened fast maneuvers greed into survival
so we chew but cannot swallow what we see
is this then what judgment is my lips will ask
this polyester napkin and those contactless faces
our eyes held hands fed body before what future
you drive us home in the twisting dark as i nod off
the headlights reflected in dogs eyes like coins
as the unfed guard the way by broken asphalt
we arrive and flavor seems to have returned
we bite a grey macaron speckled with black sesame
seeds soft as the crack at the back of a cradled head
//
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
original ooze
this nights business
sheer sky-falls of memory
your willful ooze is
teasing my soles your
frothy ooze my
salt-bedded indiscretion
//
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
fast flight
in the smudged aftermath of a hijacked plane
a bird sits in wonder
at the swift
heart
after so fast years
her beat so hard believing in
so locked in by the loaded spring
like a poem punched out through the windowpane
//
purple fast
you caught me on your pleasureline yesterday
a warning on the sounding sea-bruise of night
at the global brink of your vaporous flight
into the tiniest vessel of my flecked resistance
and what would my hydrogen-burning father think
when my limbs shudder to lie next to yours
when i slide my fingers across the plum-skin sky
my rose-thread-hooked by your star ungoverning me
who steals the scene from the full face of the moon
who steals my dream to die until another spring
i am awoke at noon by iambs falling like the rain
like pain or like war until the poem is written about it
until the martyr says i was just a child in love
and now you will repeat my morning for me
//
🌕
mere eidolon
at sundown when you disappear
like death is an unbroken sound
my dark thought into your empty pockets
an oyster swallowed
//
foolocracy (city fast)
clapped-clouds a-harpin angels
and rude jinn
as chooks a-cluckin pluck
my messy ear
but though hung up-side-down
for-tune a-ruin
loves featherin-lid ne’er-feated
by mere fear
//
katabasis on an intact plum
as the violence of my storm
on the exquisite valley like a stem-snapped blade
draws her meandering twin
along the vein of your virginity
by whose volcanic seam the black
and greening scar is welded between
rivers
until the bottom of her exhalation
where dreams our deepest lake
(orchards of wantlessness)
//
the inward prospect of a delta
once upon the oceans day an open secret rode forth
enrobed in sheer sunsets and sunrises to say
it is always and regardless of the weather okay
to not be okay on a winged word
she said in my opinion like roses aflame
poetry is never okay
poetry is the doing deed
poetry is a metaphor for the mishap
and it might have worked but that beachgoers assumed
she plied postcards for the impossible
well she spoke quietly to her own heart
ive seen worse ways to circumnavigate this black earth
//
🌔
//
Halcyon cyanoventris
seems nesting nearby
very loud
and yet so blue
omg the genealogy of OK
cries out
via improbable speech
babel bobber bauble bubble
//
Phaedrus: (as Lysias, cont.)
and it’s clear
that if it seems good to those
they will reckon (poiein) these badly
/
and it’s clear
that if it seems good to those
they will treat (poiein) these badly
// 231ξ
καὶ δῆλον ὅτι ἐὰν ἐκείνοις δοκῇ καὶ τούτους κακῶς ποιήσουσιν
//
and chickpea
wings
of canny
vegan haggis
for tasty char-
coal catnip
and the heavenly
near-
march
sphere
of irrepressible spring
(of
2d
cold-
pressed)
potent-
ate
jostlewagging
//
should have been napping
doodle