So much light, dear oblivion, night after night; I offered up my body. You refused. I drank. Begged, really. Said my dreams, you don’t belong here. Some countable mornings ahead, crouched in the internet’s dark corners, hands reaching into prosaic brightness, not to gather, but offer: News spreads of a virgin conception. And so much light.
blood-bunny lays on false face
alone in encouraging corners
halogen burns —it is relevant to observe—
spanish communists hidden in
bowling bags and electric
teeth gnawing at gates of dawn
soon we’ll all be frozen
belly of lake coronavirus
deep unremarkable remembrance of celebrity
superstition swirling around salon
breeze transfixing artificial and drunk
do i hear guitars preserving structures
of hierarchy and dominion? every authoritarian
framework has to prove it’s capable of suction
while we’re building our homes like brilliant immigrants
we sense somewhere tense pastel pulls of
new logic should be particular to development
instruments of spirit in-world — sing for poverty
then lie bricks and masks and final
immoderate stars
correlation
of dizzy
dive light and
images fade
at the end
of divine
capital —
like a life
preserver
enamoured
concrete
vile fawn
at the
bottom
of file
architecture like
rainbows
demand it’s okay
not to pose
here among
posy
cardinals
never stop
look in the mirror
it’s time
to talk
politics