There are too many things to unsee in this city,
the night street holds dark memories;
traffic jams, phones blaring
the static complacency of the bourgeoisie,
faint screeches of beat up vans
and tire explosions, schizophrenic
sloth of industrial machinery
drilling roads, houses, three metres apart;
the fragmentation of the nuclear family -

if only life were a gothic fable;
we would all be mythical
deities to the dark regions of earth -

for the night is oceanic,
Atlantic, revolution
turns upon a fixed axis;
tonight’s ocean
opening, first ionization,
breath as oxidation -

the middle
the midnight

in the air where the air is alight
and the light contains substance,
the fine saturation of salience,
lust for dopamine, we light

the silk in the fire, remember the earth
spirals around a sailing sun
like a strand of DNA,
everything circumferencing
in swirls of cataleptic cinnamon,
and we are space dancers,
free in the infinite,
the embroidery of all edges,
small, but
insoluble
and dissolving.

As it sit, here on peninsulas
extensions into oceans,
tides that drag, pixelating
parameters opening
to peering places,

my eyes squint
at blurred horizons;
everywhere horizoning,
circumferencing me
in swirls of cataleptic cinnamon
(you know, that pop cultured
coalescence of sensation)

And while I swim
through these streams and unconscious rivers,
on peninsulas (of dust)
placidly pouring  soft summer rain
onto concrete souls like treacle on crumpets,
it occurs to me that
we are just madness becoming
into something astonishing

Timeworn,
"she was weeping, banally, in the moonlight"

We, in some strange power’s employ, move on a rigorous line

Our thoughts broadcast in reverse of linear time

Laying down fresh electric cable so our minds can again spin webs and half-eaten threads

To stand ready for launch from
Cape Canaveral

Young astronauts, and cultural fallout, spun in exhilarating swirl of places and vividly half-described incidents

Experiments explored in zero gravity

Starlight, starbright
first time I apogee tonight

Impaled upon the high temples of Min
flowered in the sun

A collective come undone

Circumferencing quicksand
as worlds tilting badly off-center

In the death ovens  
they go spiraling down into driftglass

Smooth skin circumferencing the shape of a soul.
an infinite horizon from which all Colors arise and fall spawning changes and emotions,
Ranging anywhere to no place .
This is how you see someone.
This is how you feel.
This its where you look.
Mercurial is the soul.
All sides of a circle.

Julian Malek
May 26 at 6:41 PM  ·
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