Bubbled
then
pops

The thought comes
like an ******
--anticipated--
and dissipates

Where does a ravishing force
come from an unknown tantinglingzing
tantric combination of random hailing
between two (or more) bodies;
As is prescribed by

any tongues
dictionary of
mandated choice

The ocean and I
lie in bed awake all day
No bleak place or space

My script or
My scriptor

The spectator sport of
reading and representing
present in the temporal
sense that is constant

Confined to its binding
in one setting up the
dictionary of texts

For the scriptor to arrange
For the ****** to graze

I

I am the undertow
Washing tides of power
Battering the pillars
Under your things of high law.

II

I am a sleepless
Slowfaring eater,
Maker of rust and rot
In your bastioned fastenings,
Caissons deep.

III

I am the Law
Older than you
And your builders proud.

I am deaf
In all days
Whether you
Say "Yes" or "No".

I am the crumbler:
     To-morrow.

"You are likely to
succeed if you try!"

Perhaps that's why
I find a part of the
self in verbal form

At the subatomic level of
this and that there is a Platonic
good vibrating like mad, like a
mountain flower

Saying "Yes, I said yes,"
will you yes to its yes?

Oh my God, I forgot
how ******* amazing Manga
is and I wonder can't

Remember why I ever stopped
reading it tickles then torments
my sensitive nature and
reminds me

I am a romantic when
my green grows and swells
resonating from her hand on
his coat or her resounding
"I belong to him" sound

It sounds like drivel:
to need so little as a trope's
grip of some coat in a storm

Part of the pleasure
lies in the silent
treatment:

The sinful thing is the thing
prohibited is the injunction
to talk about the thing that
should not be talked about

The discourse that most becomes
a silence is the authoritative kind,
in the way that a child's authoritative
cry lies in an ability to shut it up

A child cries and you
pick it up like a book and
set it down like a book