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Wednesday, June 26, 2019

POEMS 6-26-19

IM


He toys with me 
I had been thinking
You are a toy he says
So little a tiny toy
I’ll carry you home
I’ll carry you I’ll carry you!
I am a Scorpio! I'm a Scorpio!
When are we going to have sex!
I hear DeLillo’s Eric Packer?
The knife goes in the heart of the bull
Three times and the blood gushes!
Like Fred Astaire he slides 
Fast cutting angled side steps across the floor
An unknowing flamenco.
The furious and stupid 
Virago enters the door.
His performance stops.
But it didn’t quite happen that way.


Untitled


How do I know
If the fish in my brain
Refuse to swim up
To the surface plane?
All glittering scales
Flashing in light
Telling me yes and yes
It will all be right.


IM 


In Robert Wilson’s Opera:
The Life and Times 
Of Sigmund Freud,
I saw you run
Before you were born.
A Mercury of Time,
Now a running Apollo 
Scribbled all over
By drunken Dionysians
With Intentions of Parrhesia
You know nothing about.
Seeing you now confuses
The past which was
The future and this present
Mirroring the past.
Is there a tense somewhere
That they call
Future past or past future
Like the Intentional of the Hopi?
Because her car was laden
With Destiny that came
Crashing across my lifeline
Forcing me to live
In Alterity; waving at her
Drifting farther away,
Until I almost can’t hear her sigh.

It is not the present which influences the future, thou fool, but the future which forms the present. You have it all backward.  Since the future is set, an unfolding of events which will assure that future is fixed and inevitable. CHILDREN OF DUNE  Leto II p. 278 *


Don’t hold your breath
The Buddha says
Breathe through each
Moment of Samsara.


IM


It is better to marry
Said St. Paul,
Than to burn.
I disagree.
It is through burning 
That I see
Your challenge thrown at me:
Turning all those fetishes
Of tattoos on arms thighs and lives
Laboring to burn memories Into flesh.
Bought wounds from Studios of Design
Selling trendy.