Revenging the Non-Dominant EyeA Poem by PerditionThere are days that
measure easily; almost lethargic Like the murky legs of Alabama water Days that are lost Pouring over this hungry mindless beast of a Chattering America Calibrating new moral doses in blue-jean nicotine patches I watch it glancing I watch it cursing mirrors Cheering the unidentified
middle class purgation There are days that slow like
Hamlet Aware and swearing Ophelia is Out there Somewhere Days that are meant for us Surfing the yellow-tailed glassed hour and trying to switch a rail to North Dakota Be a scholar of morning Days we all sink So quick. All encompassed But I want to know this hatch
of the fallen I want to know where
everything is coming from Eventually I want to know That all rapids in the tall grassy parking lots will someday small Eventually Into the wide-open range of omnipotent hands I want to be drunk Again… Mutually unfaithful I want to fibrillate in serum passageways See the Maharishi smoking cornfields out over Iowa I want to hear the wondrous sounds of out there Chanting broken teeth Wisdom over the un-CNN air
waves and political zoo gardens All of them Unprejudiced Still-boiled in terracotta pods; third-eyed
transcendental peas. You shut off the channels
but the varicose lonely gurus are still out there Crackling Eating scrapple under a
naked light bulb, Smashing the holy roaches
and mad as Kafka angels Caught up in their broken screen-door hallucinogens And Yes! We are always against you. Always wriggling our wad out and into the
invisible handcuffs Death pumping the streets
of paradise. But here am I to settle up This Dominant eye And I This dissentient warlord Belly mouthed god of
spiral mansions… The only prayer worth remembering is “try or don’t try” And the last stampede of dark
elephant odes The great appeal of Heracles
… The screeching musk tusked
physiology. We are the real lie. Chalky souled sidewalks smothered
in grade school mental hop sketches. We cry revolution As if all this id tyranny
will die. But eventually everything does.. We scream rape and run; dragging
centuries and wheels over a limp dick regress We ticket-leg the white zoned
mandates Set fire to our own
neighborhoods in the costumes of confederacy And this shields us from our cold deeper loneliness; Our elegant void. But what is the true grim alternate when we lock ourselves under worn out microscopes, What is the music in looking
Elvis molecules into the eye? No visible gods price checking. No visible demons at Trader Joe’s…nothing in the way of a
mad Magi alchemist Just us This The warm changes of
absence Our piss a*s decisions Our last noble stances Just us Telling us That all of it is worth aspiring for Though we are watered up in whiskey. Just us Drunk in dreams Just us Pouring up a poor man’s cup. And Yes is the
plethora in self-analysis And Yes Is a barking dog-eared shadow Free as a sardine candle The wretched wilderness fires pounding
through the crackles of suicide I can’t claim to
understand the stench or strange shapes of jigsaw
minutia or Buddhist trance I just know we all
shatter One by one We all shatter till the
floor wades deep in us And the day has teamed up
on our un-sunk casts of nets When I walk along
the wharf in older shoes The frost and wilting caps touch back the memories And I wonder if real is still Out there Still standing Hell, I know it is… I feel it Breathing Reminding me That the aging wine and
apples Will have to do For know This is the only punch that Puts my stillness to bed Again These are the days that measure easily; Almost lethargic Like the murky legs of Alabama water © 2014 PerditionReviews
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