1
In the unlit lampshade, a stillness
I satisfy my need by defining my need. My desire is everyone else telling me what to want to be.
The heart beats by seeing its ekg saying so. Cardiac event recorder in which the horizon is always rupture without revelation.
Undertow pulls the legs which way the arms this way. Image of contra without diction.
If social being is consciousness, then these rocks I cut my feet against, my blood in the water, makes this, too
Two waves break against each other, neither the aggressor. Both make a mouthful of salt.
I have gone into a wave laughing. I have seen how calm the explanation.
This is not an attempt at immediacy. This is a poem written under duress. I’m not authentic but an aura lingers at my lips.
This mouth imbibes microplastics and runoff. I swallow with and without knowledge. This is not a treatise or confession. Both have their states and I am neither one of them.
Mineral made bone made knowledge. Open your hand. Find it a shovel; give it a gun. Callus the space between.
I am told the mess of the subject is what makes a poem interesting
Cf. the grasp of hoof vs. hand
To that end, I am structuring my feeling. At this end, I make space for each hour to speak.
I wrote that earlier but out of order. I hadn’t considered how it wanted to be beheld.
My desire is everyone else
