Words are rivulets
Dreadnought pamphlets
Of arrhythmic planetary spin
Let the Ayes follow you in

Bold intones, D minor
Sharp pressed cleft dictate
A child itches with the simmer
Of starlight concentrate
(The powder of the meteor
Twitching his nose)

Imagine gravity sewing the words you speak
The syllables stitching shank trade and incubation
Oh, the birth of a nation
Is best recollected in poetry
(God’s words are too powerful for my ears
But His verse is sung by man and I fear)

Lungs the rungs
Aesthelete,
Every ant antennae
To the same trade winds
Blackness, twilight, outer space
Cordially, the same face
We must address as Mister
Court or we may disgrace
This rattle box of hymns
In the child’s hand, GRINS
Sepulcher (ˈsepəlkər/) : an anodized note
Lungs hum the begins and ends

Let the wind catch the lungs
let the moonlight glisten
air sacs with silvery resin
fallen from the spoken words of god
huddling stars against oblivion
let the daring angels contemplate
demon dares in **** and rake
over the gliding embers of whiskey-soaked sunsets I regret.  
Let my body by hers be my only poetry daring ,
daring my soul to breathe outside this tomb of childhood dragging marks across school linoleum
and university stares I dared to slip between everyone's
words after I heard that this world is loosened from reality.  
That the only gravity are the legends we repeat.

Where all languages cohese
                          heaven is their belief
The universe fills with lost souls we breathe
We hope for the broad brush strokes of angels
Baroque candy corn music and eternity

Street lights percolate
To the top of infinity
It is the spirit of man
To never Know, just see

She hopes for angels
And maps the pathos of disease
Cygnus x-1 ignites its plasma
In the key of God leaving

It is a play, this Man
Its words loosened from earth
Soot and gravity rendering arms
Imagination and the Bible verse

She took what was the motion of a butterfly
And from it made Believing
Under Sunday tides of breathing
She damns this Life for its Being

The demons’ decibel blocks situate at every opening to sunlight,
Every sliver of a mirror to the outer reaches
Of my fear of falling into the blue of sky
Past air, past God.  Into the …

Laze are the demons for gravity comes with ease
Stumbling until their blocks stifle every eve.

My grandmother does not want us to succeed.  
She was but good at breeding
For we are here and we seethe

Every Bible verse rhymes with Sanctuary
The hum drum of music mimics the heartbeat
In case we forget, or we grieve Memory

She rises in a body I can’t forget, I crave; I tease.

A hotel room overlooking a Louisianan Oil Refinery
A city of stacks burning hydrocracked gasoline
The lights reflecting the constellations above; eternity
She cradles my delusions in this nursery