is it…this then?


an aspect of inclusion to this fragmentary game

a symptom weaved with symptom now untreatable with deaths

and knowing still the direness

the taste of boots still clay baked mud and toxin

a delightful elevation and a dancing to the emptiest of jubilations


pitted moon agnostic reflecting transmitting waves

streetlight incursions across the interface while in seclusions and desolations

we become a phantom limb copulation or a mimed subcutaneous

lack of disinvestment

(or the undead roots remain?)

but a new lexicography suggests itself upon the membrane of our last

though imperfect and how we embraced the blemishes before

still now in the more or less

(which is it to be?)

the heart attack of a grapefruit

the silence of aborted things

and the doctor playing Jesus

the body tattooed against resuscitation

and which am i?

and which are you?


One Response to “is it…this then?”

  1. Always so much to analyze in your poems…so much to consider.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: