deepundergroundpoetry.com
< the universe >
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[/font][/font][/font][/font][/font] upstairs
the rice cooks —
i must be mindful of the time
the rice is not forgiving
done in fickle time
it's done and ready
or it's gone
i feel like rice
i feel like fields again
or maybe corn
high stalks of corn
all lighted in a bluish light
the dream again
a crash of car on car
a skull
a body
off
and out
and gone
no mention of the blood
the red
the primal red
but red
red as the light
that light that moves inside us still rejoices
when the skin must split
must offer up its color red
a fountain
celebrating life
a record of the suffering
which makes us
makes us up
and here they come
our leaders now
explain what's needed now for us to hear
and in our illness
in our need
we look in their direction
help them
kiss them on their useful lips
we
of weapons, words, and separation
we
completely similar
when arguing or killing or
ignoring simple similarity of us and ants
the continuity of time requires all this
when arguing or killing or
the necessary burning of the ones we love
random molecules compel, there is no blame
just place
too high
just space
(enough to stand)
to lean
to fall into the wind
to see, if possible, the sky
a skull
a body
concrete ground
and all these talking words
will drown
and all this questioning
will end
this injured vacuum
finally
will mend
- - -[/font][/font][/font][/font]
[/font][/font]
[/font][/font]
[/font][/font][/font][/font][/font] upstairs
the rice cooks —
i must be mindful of the time
the rice is not forgiving
done in fickle time
it's done and ready
or it's gone
i feel like rice
i feel like fields again
or maybe corn
high stalks of corn
all lighted in a bluish light
the dream again
a crash of car on car
a skull
a body
off
and out
and gone
no mention of the blood
the red
the primal red
but red
red as the light
that light that moves inside us still rejoices
when the skin must split
must offer up its color red
a fountain
celebrating life
a record of the suffering
which makes us
makes us up
and here they come
our leaders now
explain what's needed now for us to hear
and in our illness
in our need
we look in their direction
help them
kiss them on their useful lips
we
of weapons, words, and separation
we
completely similar
when arguing or killing or
ignoring simple similarity of us and ants
the continuity of time requires all this
when arguing or killing or
the necessary burning of the ones we love
random molecules compel, there is no blame
just place
too high
just space
(enough to stand)
to lean
to fall into the wind
to see, if possible, the sky
a skull
a body
concrete ground
and all these talking words
will drown
and all this questioning
will end
this injured vacuum
finally
will mend
- - -[/font][/font][/font][/font]
[/font][/font]
[/font][/font]
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