1.
That way.
Parts of the machine shaking up illusion and prayers
Taking up
punctuation. For a tiny tidbit of oblivion.
All this,
technology; far from kiosk
Preparing
for a guerrilla war on the sly
Metallic
affect upon the neon
As if
trampled moths across the avenue.
2.
The
beginning of an infection
The way I
think of her in and as blues
In the
beginning
Dodecahedron,
Vacuum and the sculpture seeking progress
Light slips
over light
Concentrating
for another frame
I, sucking
the bedcover. Violet.
3.
Feel
languid. This soft footpath in shoe-laces
Pecks the
stutters on your cheek
The tram
depot far fading from the night
As if in a
murder-like trance
Even on the
forehead
The labour
and ice of salt-ridden kisses
4.
A lamp comes
and sits on top of nostalgia
I turn it
into squares. Making the ‘mem’ of ‘memory’
Arranging in
jars I make your breakfast
The click
made gung-ho with great caution
Oh! I am
that fop too!
Lost in
Mohseen and pitch black Mothlight
5.
In proper
proposal. In the dialectic of eyes and lights
All those
seasonal Eves in their periods proper
I took
advantage of their scurf
Placing the
trafficker concave
Placing a
touch more
Placing him
under a magnifier
That apart,
fluorescent you folded in your wrapper
Glimmer
glimmering in folds of delicacy and crime
