As/Is







3.15.2004



click.

my body can no longer be considered a body,
or even a semblance of a body,
I have become violent surges and nameless deletion
circling in a chemical reaction,
spurt, pops, eruptions,
underneath two thousand years of ash covered bodies.

click.

Im on a train, a commuter train,
probably one of those east coaster going west.
I can always tell where I am by the bulging backyards,
with their tractor heaps and bundles of cars.
I am lolly-gaggin towards saturation,
going west, following the sun.
I following a storm saying something or other,
but the other has a purpose,
I am the purpose, but invisible.
I am here to rest from virtues relative perspective
as the catch of the day - your caught, your it.
I am here to rest one more moment,
maybe at the next stop,
a double feature with
buttered popcorn marlena dietrich tuxedo
and top hat following the troop to battle;
I am invisible,
contact is departing,
I cant maintain this double . . .

click.

twisting chalk and distant sun particles
are consumed in a vortex receptacle -
flesh and earth combined in a creeping
electrical blender creeping up my legs,
first the ankles, devouring bone,
muscles, red blood cells, living tissue,
enveloping intuition in energetic conundrum . . .
then . . .

click.

I could go any where
that is somewhere that would be fine anywhere.
I was once told a rocking chair didnt talk back,
but that wasn't anywhere.
no, I need something somewhere that's somewhere
to escape this megalith that creep into my storage locker.
somewhere where that points to a departure time
at precisely 10:15, that will take me somewhere, anywhere.
I stand in front of a door with a name,
the name no meaning,
but I keep asking for a door with meaning,
somewhere where there’s somewhere,
where there a where there, somewhere,
a door or something that is there away from here.

click.

the cancer increases its rotation,
swallowing each cell in a liquid extraction,
burning incapsulated bone particles,
chomping the ankle bone with the sound of a hells lawn mower,
at the speed to the sound.

click.

it seems as if my escape policy has deserted me,
gone on a hiatus,
there’s no more positions to delete,
no more tunnels dig follow.

click.

the mass wave of distortion
has reached the last will and testament,
caught in a bear trap; struggling is fruitless,
the last foot hold standing
is stopped in its tracks,
a meteor the size of kansas comes to quick stop;
corralled in stasis, without escape,
without disbursement,
the center of war and plague in one innocent moment,
no exit points, no side door.
a mad dog cough on a broken chain
waiting to devour itself at the feet of itself.
I am alive then dead in an insist.
before the mind can find refuge
the body scatters into trillion pieces,
a cloud busts,
micro particles extend in instantaneous evaporation,
gone in -0 seconds

click.