This is not for the sincere loves

by on August 20, 2010 :: 0 comments

This is not for the sincere loves
For the funeral that celebrates everything
For the whispering brilliance
The fast and furious vinegar wells
Bitter sour oranges marinating
nothing undone
Of humor and health
Meditation of simple norms
And the old nourishment the old nourishment the old nourishment I lived
That one is not for the misfit
The minion with the locks to the real unknown
The void of common man pacifying
Mourning of the bland
Without Delicious Shit
Stacked on muddy floors of gracefulness
This is not for the jovial participant of death
Spitting the vulvular confines of open air like
Humanoid wives
Stationary wells of the obvious
Obvious linear renewal
Abundant day to day
Speech dispersing that will suck and swallow
Into the original
Of everyone, myself, herself into himself
Always unaware of the hard and debase
Many who couldn’t unencumber others brashly under
Unlike rigid nakedness circling a fall evening
I will or I will not go away from that
Soft question and realization to act that one
Unholy thing shouldn’t become
Yes now
When the stillness has been given to the unholy nets
And the receptacle has been birthed, yes glued to the guts
Yes back of mine, blind to the masses
Empty of anything similar
Anything worse than the intent that hasn’t been complete
The given moonlight that only a man
A false man can take from the unknown
Many dirty stones of silence all at once
Peers embraced
I will sit together in transience
In the dominance of my forthright thoughts
The genuine litany and inclusions
The exhaustion and slaps on the face
Or the loathing the underling loathing
The uplifting numbness I never receive before minutes
Of moving that I am accepted
Not tolerated in reality’s solitary march

If I’m not bottom light or numb
Or a little girl devoid of maturity
Or If I’m unequipped and cannot act
And I’m fearful of it’s uselessness
It’s my own reality that doesn’t create action for caring, and openness
The come to my open fields and drink from my empty vapory vulva
No this ceases to exist in the outer world
Or at its fullest in the unknown
It doesn’t seem to
And I know why.

Leave a Reply