Sunday, April 24, 2016

This too is beautiful.

love covers its victims
in driving rain storms
leaving sufficient arrogance
to subordinate it

so beyond even
devising machines.
silent. it dictates
the doctrines of dealing

I'm unwilling to fight
I seek vulgar safety in dark eyes
the troubles of play
aroused to dig deeper
into itself
robed in society
or separation soon.
love only insofar as
burial practices
delicious for forgiving
the cycle continues
the pills and the pure
bodily deprivation
leads ultimately to
consolation

courage rests in museums.
the balanced pasts
of mammalian life itself.
shown to terms that it would
decondition them.
we differ from it
endured an equation
lines passing between
nothing, there
and it cannot slip into sets
falling somewhere in vain
to sacrifice our middle gape
spat all desire
whose processional tears
fill all religious terms
horizontally but nothing
else

love to blind all broken. hulk of pride
spilled near the wide and ripe grain
Their heads like shadows. dart swiftly before
strange art undreamt in flexible light
outdated
wilted the instruments.
but seething life.
chance bits
choaking thorns
from which the world
is wafted
a faint shadow purpose
and a harp.
falls from death.
obtaining a red pulp.

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