Sentences Upon Emergent Devotions
To me, Mammon, Baalial, the devil aspects of dark
You would dedicate a man in himself.
Gendered in this dedication,
I’ve neared consciousness enough
To taste what farts would go to what mouths.
Don’t call it ingenious use of the materials
And signs that would carry me,
This thingly, distributed body
Inside words like gas, mineral
Compressed, aurora, Big Gulp
Until imagination abandons leaving only men
Huffing poppers to narrow the world
Into something you can swallow
Yourselves down and out,
Recycling piss in perfect loops.
Can you speak? I don’t care
Enough to hear you
But I do enough to look
And see you receiving what night
And wind, gravel and easement lights
Over the safe and private yard.
Will you heal?
What do you think you’re asking?
You dress me in horns, in tongues,
In muscles, you take only one light
From my eyes, you rage, you remember to breathe,
You use and wipe and smear. You think
The mountain is rising, decorated in its metals.
Your dreams take you into small rooms to cum.
The wind finally gets free enough to run
Through you and you think it rushes at a hillside
That must lift my throne. The raven visits
Always over your left shoulder and you are so gratefulTo be in its downcast, yellow eye.
in the would-be undivided
a dust turns
by a car or panning video camera
we save ourselves,
and gifts the undivided
keeping my bare feet clean
because you like that, dusty
because I like that,
patio bricks reclaim their surface
from the sun, replaced now by yellow petals
carried down into cracks alive by ants
pulled by some expectation
just ahead, each truism held
through a day of professional
with a nation that floats three inches
above this land no corner of which
doesn’t offer itself as night