Monday, February 27, 2012

Heat and Other Fiery Identities

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. 
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. 
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.

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

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

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.



  1. Wow that IV had quite the word mash up, just flew through so violent like, in a good way, without a hiccup. All of them had such word play that can amaze, but liked the fourth's fiery feel the best. Rising as the phoenix once more was a great touch too, harkening back to that lore.

  2. dude...what a tale...great repitition of some lines really meshes this well...and has quite the grit to it as well...did you read oran's well yet, kinda similar tale but the marginal notes, great touch...smiles...nice close too on cremating the old then rising anew...