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PRCV-L





One withers at the dearth of chances
to really get before the sun
and although the sun is complex
your job is simple
weigh the burden of light
set it aside
deny a reversal
glean some pride
and wipe your mouth
with fats and moon
survive the seduction of your fear
in twelve different voices
with eyes that net the bling of death
this is your job
like all jobs it is simple
and yet difficult enough for you
to pause and question the degree
this job in particular merits
continuing your life,
that intimidating cove
with no floor or the means to swerve
so frankly collapse
into a leveling brevity
hum your distant rationed whims
pass by in resplendent oddness
incorporate
euphoric roles, surrender occupation
find the shift manager
and confess your tongue
in some associate's mouth their buy one
get one shoved under your fingernails

dehisce like the face of a child in cave
broken by hand.

Suddenly there is hair flung aside in a public
vocal display of personal revolution
that it was midnight implied COMMUNION
what was under discussion
or have another beer but of course
not in explicits. From deep within
their seat someone mentioned blowing out
a catechismal candle. Seven cups
to fill with shine, throats with smoke.
O may a jossy deen lave the chuff
and tribility be high in this song
of the caliphate, this unadorned
irresponsible tune!
Agreeing, i was obliged to be seated
across from the mirror tree
its a cappella reflections of light
in order to more clearly see everything
i liked: PRIVILEGE
RHETORIC, COTERIE, VIBE
all disappearing into one another slowly.
Posted 09/11/13
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