cistern of consciousness

texts of an irreverently disconnected collection of 3 or 4 poems published together in my first poetry zine.

a birdless sky over the Tularosa depression, spent ten hours against the dusty road, Colorado emptied thru Mescalero, arrived in a millennium’s bed of gypsum in a bottomed-out, churning yet void landscape. dead zone as a signal. we were islands in that austere marbled tundra to be caught in a caustic desert storm

this was vacation

 

yeah yeah yeah yeahyeahyeah yr brilliant now. aureate. loud. clangor. bark. just �" yeah electrified. I think we’re finally equal to the polymerization of our collateral desires, & discovered we’re just more longitudinal baby. yeah given yr aural synesthesia we’d be inside some sonic roseate kaleidoscope, some wildly animate neural mosaic. us doing the sky like a couple neon valentines again.

yeah again!

yeah you make me so jagged. crooked. lightning-struck, messed up & lovingly wrecked.

 

you give me room to breathe in this cistern of consciousness

lightheadedness. its a quiet hub in city noise.

see before I was stretched across good negative space

& really it was just running into you

gives me any dimension.

 

 

you cannot choreograph the reconstruction, granular heirlooms rippling, echoes in the buzz, foley giver. yr trading in oblique carpentry. opaque the barley eviscerating generations of ol’ boys. tell the texan battlements crooning to cannon fodder. behold, the low desert martianscape contours the reaches of woolgathering.

the russet parataxis just unnerves.

now merely antiheroic on plaques, in verse

antiquity and romantic vainglory

yr newfound antebellum and the shudra parqueted. a storied

time, hard and lonely.

are no occasions for the wilted champaign

no titian fields barbed or riven

no manifest destiny tinged with regret

no general hollowed out by rotgut