Truly, I am sick
Paralleled with pages' print, I climax--
some strung out inhalation stretched taut, snapped thin
But of course!
the face of god would be a laugh
The author knows, the artist sees, shows
this eternal pun "of courseness"
that, at death, we will choose to die
that I, the lungged, may opt not to swim--
and that in drowning, a fluid arch backward of this these vertebraes' collonade
would turn my final conscious corridor
of dimming light
upward as a smile..
All
great space
condenses, swells--
jellied brimstone for the sundry faces, crisp grasses, empty desk,
the unseeable (because they are unseen) movements of my body,
hard sand walls, lapped tall,
thick chests,
and thick chests over thin ones,
blueprints rolled tightly behind the tongue...
Author notes
"Life is not serious; life is sincere." - Alan Watts
we're hardly done
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
-
This is stunning. Gorgeous work.
-
-
Thanks a lot
-
-
Sorry for the wait; Danny just arrived home from the store. 
I hurriedly made a copy of your original, so that I could make the proper comparisons...this time. 
Indeed, your revisions are apropos...even more elucidating than the first version. I like your thorough additions, your enlightenments, quite well...the more elaborate descriptions, the continuation of your previous thoughts. Well done, Scribe! I shall link Danny to your newest...He will enjoy it, too. Welcome back to this side of the realm, Jen. 
-
-
Thank you for your commentary beacons. I think I may yet see a glimmer of light pealing off the grunge of my limp
-
-
Haha! Just noticed your little worshipping smiley - please share the secret of how it's done.
-
-
Adding your comment:
1 - 5 of 5
