PROLOGUE
She—hot
pressed
leather,
irons frigid touch upon
perspirations
exhumed. Curdled anxieties,
surrendered
to the many fraudulent and ill-warranted charges—
concocted
by nervous acumen, a lackluster response spawned by erratic anticipatory
rationale. And
each
the coddled fan’s wrinkled breath, a svelte terrain of motion—
side
to sidled side, a portent reconfiguration—a reclamation project, in search of
buried sliver composites and for the potential verification of fanfares hyped—radiating
outwards inwardly, by timeless traditions of steeped origin, nonesuch more
important than, being the product of parental haranguing, often sought as a
tool for teaching, a method of deterrence aimed at the cessation of undesirable
behaviorisms often prevalent in preadolescent
harbingers of gospels so fear-inspiring that parents so easily are threatened
by the shallowest of situational respite evinced.
I
A
quickly stirred rush to judgment, in case of perfunctory chagrin, to which a
knot may appear—not due to a child’s perceived propensity toward any sleight or
deficient exhibition—but rather, in regards to, the salted uneasiness felt,
concerning that which dwells inside—face to face the become with their own
wretchedness—seeing their repertoire of emotional response, as being
unsatisfactory to raise dogs, let alone a pitiful child seeking guidance in an
unmapped realm. A snap evaluation, bred
from such stemma; self-prescribed askance forms and lingers in
subcutaneous
expression, fossilized—forever kneeling before, a discourse in algorithmic
expansiveness; clustered waves seem audible—despite the inconvenient
unlikelihood presented by case-traction—cluttered in muted verbs and matted
incomprehensibility— presented by the adjectival allurement of presupposed
thermostatic rendering.
II.
In
a place, a location, a site unseen-forgotten—of indignation and its every
precipice—It is here that the core suppression falters in swoon—switching on,
off, on, off, on, endlessly on and off—in vapored chords, sweltering in chambered
growth—where corduroy-like crease work is predominantly evidenced by the
crinkling glances of a spider’s, snare/snarled/pinned, anatomically misshapen
stance.
Paralytics,
vapid identity resolution, confusing the brush-stroking—as if the summer can
suddenly appear—perhaps an effigy staged in humid perception—but the winter
must first outwear its icy sole.
III.
A
gopher, steeple palmed, fingers high—unite,
touch
to touch—a pressure pointed gesticulated juncture, for resurfacing, the flagrant
lore of buttresses neurologically paved—swathing in absolute criticism, until
the agonizing fresh-belly detonation, skins clean the glistening expulsion
marks—wide first, fist stretched schema, roundly delicate is the tenderly caged
beast—affixing key to lock-hole—rusted sudden, turning, turning, breaking free
of corrosive webbing, shrapnel and all its conjoined destinies of skipped
sudden anesthesia emerge—platen—like the ever-haunting reflective surface of
tempered green-hued glass.
Marginal Notes:
Combustible
cavities scathe to boil, the torch ignites—surrounded are the vestibules
internal, guarding against shilled flames and repository meltdowns.
We,
as a species, press in tiers, lathering the oasis firm to flesh, scrubbing
improprieties cleansed deep from inside the incised pore—natures puncture
points, tousled yet flawless in artistry—bathing in fiery aphorisms,
extinguishing the terse, gathering truth, brandishing the enigma of the
skein—griddled, binding authority of fire
IV.
Caressing—she,
Pressed
hot, tongs entwine—smokestack offerings, a piston’s path, hearth, amassing
temperatures out of control—friction, flesh burn, gyration cycling, emanating
signatures within, white, blue, green, red, orange, conformities of heat—she,
hot pressed, reddened by subcutaneous release—enflamed, raw—striating
voluntarily—consciousness affirmed amidst the flash of flame-flame, desire,
induction, conducive dreams lit to flesh-burn—she, hot pressed, on—atop,
flushing, alchemical singeing to breath-like confection
EPILOGUE
In
the conclusion, the finale, the last snuff of a phoenix’s flame, a ravenous
journey to speak the least, a passion-filled apocalypse of shape and form,
exerting gasoline atop infernal gaze, posturing, twitching inconceivably….
releasing a spire of combustion and then the only self we’ve ever
known—collapses and dies. Eventually we cremate the old—then wait until we are
unleashed anew.
