19 November 2017
Postcard 109
Turquoise Daughter, sink some ships. No man alive can comfort you. Let flesh fall like so much drifting slag. From that land raised a great wail -- alone and whole, sparks brighter than our meager sun [cancer causing animus, tumorous]. Turquoise Daughter, halfway flayed, the broken earth thrust between your legs. It hasn't always been this way. Remember that -- its your great pain. Let the great putty-men flake away. See the silver raven speak over black water's face. Sink some ships and follow her. Collect the wails. Sew them up in womb and crack your mighty legs. Turquoise Daughter create a scream. A scream complete, more mighty than the Word. Sink ships. Send bodies flaming into black seas. Crushing. I may not know to not fight back. Turquoise Daughter bury me. Use my blood as grease. Let Annihilation be your name -- create! There is no man can comfort you. There is no man that does not fear
Postcard 108
Only lovers bleed like this
Bite bite shoulder flesh
My pale skin is eyetooth thin
We're barrel-bound in grapple sway
Approach waterline break
Break break tension caught
roll. Breath lean into me
Bend toward break
You want everything
Lick what you want
Lick bite scratch burn
Your full arms your
bending legs your
back your neck will snap
to make me learn:
We can hold everything
but we're gong to have to
choose to burn
Burn tongue and throat
on all that drips -- blood
sweat barrel-rolls the moon
Lick lick squirm wrap
ourselves in rainfall
bloodfall scratch
scratched torn
Summon wrapped enveloped
winds of devils summer storm
Only lovers bleed like this
Only lovers bite and hold
Only the two of us
grapple wrap enfold
Only we give godhead, cloud-
break, thunderhead. Bite
scratch suck take. Leave
earthworms waterlogged
and drowned down
upon the wet concrete
08 November 2017
Postcard 107
Put it down to famous last words, to dying verse
In this chromium dawn sky a thousand dark birds explode and fall again,
Sparrows shooting out like seeds in a firestorm. There is no lack
Only what we do not have, what we cannot let go. There is no lack
Packets of light, like the birds, the mind assembles a thought -
Just once to remember what is known
What is in the moment that separates the first flown bird from last?
To know, to release, to let go that live wire, that green branch
To let go of what is held to fly!
Of flying, of what bird is made, there is no lacking
Of air above there is no lack
Though perhaps of the crowded clustered branch,
Perhaps of the frantic chattering wire,
Perhaps of mindless tendon tight, but of sky above there is no lack
Put it down to great unknowns, of mindless pull:
of fly and fall there is no lack
03 November 2017
Postcard 106
Today the old blind woman said cherish your sight before it goes.
Today the frightened man on the radio told the interviewer he recorded every moment of his child's life.
Today the young man slowly going deaf is trying to capture moments in songs.
I did not tell the old woman No, now cherish your ears and your fingertips.
The interviewer did not point to that father's navel and laugh.
Nobody suggested the young man nurture a taste for madeleines.
Stop this madness, cease!
Remember every lesson learned at precisely after the time of its use.
Today I was asked to consider my early relationship to my mother, going way back.
There is no telling of relationship to the fluid in which you swim. Swim and cease.
I remember, I remember only broken things:
the taste that is tied to no real thing,
the flagrant song picking up any other melody,
the blankness where once was tug in womb growing cool.
Can you recall the yearning? Can you recall the pain?
Isn't this life desire forever on the cusp of now,
and memory just a slowing down of death
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