Being an artist means ceasing to take seriously that very serious person we are when we are not an artist. Jose Ortega y Gasset





.














-

26 April 2013

Undiscoverer

I am unwise and I am unrisen, divided peace
churn-thickened by cultless following, and nobody is listening
or are not

where from, unto which extremes
do you weave too gaunt - give it up already:
I get it, you can be mean
to beast as well as I

know that of ink throb
through feeble bodies - crush on words
just is a byline, is not mastery itself

you can and do for ever to waste
yet it is so that one thing in you is governed

is that essentially this
taken leave of/for ingrate sense
from fear clerically trifling, bled mystery

who withers is not only that - it is not just you
there, now do you know who you are?

18 March 2013

Me meal's chewin' jeans

Amazing how one tiny tear can
relieve an epoch of pain

if it was I who you mistook
for a cave kiss

raven in sorghum, with whom I do
not know where to expect
that we go

inveighing slicks up
or spite of your slime

tank so truffle-heavy,
are you the arugala leaf?

Cabiria, raring to parlay
imperceptible clowning

spooked by floor, no wonder
enjoins me to ceiling

of letting - but is not why the hum

mutt-bleakened canal

verdant plumage alone you
descend at once with ever

who, precise unto me resound: want
to unsee

spare all under all over - night scion
never beneath, gravelling

reduced to having unveiled no better
than your sex

even truthing to self
your affectionate improbability

so gravitate toward meaning
exhuming positions of star lights
ages ago

what about partisan
veering in toward

we, sans me, too far and too vast
doing without all but not desiring