deepundergroundpoetry.com

xi. albatross

A collaboration with chance -

What is this appeal to the idea of purpose?
Of separating and categorizing experience into

waking, therefore worthy
and
dreaming, therefore dismissible

These perceptions run parallel, the
categories are lies and the attempt is nothing short
of intellectual dishonesty.

It is true - there is no trust in self.
You are lost.

Not the wandering lost, no, you have traveled
through weakness into uncertainty.
Questioning the instincts that served you
for decades.

Both eyes are open, but
This is not for you.

Close one, burn one out, sacrifice the lying orb
return to the studied attention
given to accident, chance, patterns
the howling laughter, returned.

A resonate form opens, its tendrils
as deep as they are distant.
Traveling in all directions, refracted through
thought, through memory, through perception
through senses as yet unnamed but whose fringes
are at the edges, influential if not acknowledged.

Its hum is marked by reverberating crashes
carried by the winnowing winds in aerial clashes of intent

Bloom,
bloody and beautiful
a towering fulgurite once more.