Thursday, September 4, 2014

Our Best Effort

Believing our art of space is deeply about a
heart in place a home a nettle dog a bone a
child finding she bleeds and saying 'now
I'm a woman' with a mouth of giving and
eyes for eating the earth within my earth
within my sleep within my beating tit
within a pear within a pitted peach upon the
peak of reason whose despair he will despise a
tired fire lazy warming crazy liar moonface angel
bright bright bright Jupiter of Pisces fuck
of that beating tit of that broken head of that beating
tit of that spoken said of that tongue of that wine of
his of his of mine of Joseph Israel white
Palestine of Egypt's Moses anger and the
forgetness of Samuel the River founding
fever for his brothers our
fever for guns and guns and guns and
I will have these blistering nightdreams that fade into
nothing forever and they will never stop and I will
never stop and there is only the frantic recording of
what I call history to try and make do

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