After “Heraclitus Unbounded” artery imbibing hot pinks, veins exploding beneath skin, drizzle of raw strength, a sympathy for the mottled innards composing us -- this isn’t a command -- this is free will, ability to surrender wholly to crooked, rooting teeth, to the rust of an engine, veins choked free of air, free of free will finally (for a time) with chaos exposing itself, each network of nerve, vein, heart, corralled beneath embrace of pale skin -- how many weeping philosophers does it take to bound the human will?
After “Anti-Shadow” neon crayoned in light’s absence -- piled hair, gold leaf of an obscured flame blinds me with Main St.’s eternal flare. witness the blue flame issuing from copper lips like a promise revealed too late -- copper lips resting cold on vertebrae of frost-tinged street names I forgot years ago
After “Oh There You Are” we lost track of blue fire on the limestone steps, blazing Roosevelt velvet and gold, dripping glue, running milk from the exact center -- fire turns wheels now instead of water, have replaced the wheels -- don’t tell me you forget where the center lies? does abstraction call for a moral code? or just a map? you’ll lose your ears, your eyes, find them where you left them -- I’ll find you where I lost you, where I meant to lose you.