lady day...

writing six
...the incidents of words... mosaic... now
Mary is taking it with Joseph asking if he's as good
compared...
...the quiet hysteria of codes...
...secret histories displayed openly...
...tired exasperated mania without any semblance of
politic, justice a yuppy dip in a hot tea, without
acknowledgment of this very biscuit, reality, tea
bagged like some bitch... lopsided trailing through
days sat in coffee shops with the same people with
different faces...
...flowers bitten off insects, all
scurrying for a peace, of beauty with whorish
charms... with incidents calling of Fuego, heat
hitting with Corashe... i can hear the streets of
Buenos Aires now, right here and melons sold for
pesos held in old wrinkly hands, subjected to you
God... without a doubt in shadow of your ways
suggestive of why you would need a shadow,
knowing even disbelief functions the acceptance
that you are there: if you were not wouldn't we need
to invent you anyway, to stop the barbarians getting
in?
...i ask, but i of course know, because these
hands are tied behind a back with legs waiting for
the throb beyond the throb, the eternal throb where
i sit in the sky after the soils, amongst the Roses
spiraling into the eternity i prefer as opposed to
your stipulations...
...xxx
84