Monday, November 16, 2015

Here I Am Stirring the Senses

Here I am stirring the senses
And listening to the Rolling Stones
As they once existed in England
Now you always say that you want to be free
But you’ll come running back to me
Coiled into introversion the way I found you
There’s an engine beside the syntax
Of a river causing it to arrange itself
In funny currents and giants of garlic and thorn
Scattering itself into oars where the mockingbird
Sings and the threads are heavenly. Equilibrium
Feels good. Doesn’t it? Balance yourself
On a line of poetry and consider the light
Of the candle. We only bring them out when
The wind tears through the shitty infrastructure
Of this city and causes a power outage. Things
Get romantic quickly. Out come the candles
And quills and the skin itches with all the toxins
Inside the body that want to come out and express
Themselves as ideas. Well, what’s an idea? Can you
Tell me? When the elevator arrives and the door
Opens do you sometimes expect to see angels
Discussing Cubism? Use your biology to top
The similarity of violins. There’s got to be strings
In this world or the music will just hang
In the air like a universe. The weight of this
Emotion is anonymous and bubbles
As I crawl across the floor looking for my impact
On society. I know it’s here someplace
I know a good magician when I see one
Saw a woman in half and accelerate the noise
Of my skin. Syntax squeezes the water as it glides
Over my head like a big idea of spectacular perspective
And all I can do is offer you a sonnet giving birth
To an evergreen shaking in the wind like a garage
That later turns gray in the mind and real
As the imagery of heaven on a coin of jelly

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