release prayer #1

let jitters hiss out like / grass-steam at earth-sun awakening & / rose over blanket bloom in daylight petals / brain-wrinkles & shudders ease into the hands shaking in quiet airs / the ceasing is / fleeing-oxygen in a rush & left-behind stillness, stillness in the lungs, stillness in / fingers warping the screens, warming your thumbs in the evening quiets, the drawing of the dew-roots from the heart, the morning rising from your shoulders and / their crests in a calm way, / budding & creaking into soothing mist

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land of stagnant wasps

there is violence in trumpet strings, cut deep in the brass-hands / we are pushing air into their /voices; melodic & humming out over / grass isles & the glow in our sky is / heavy with strong-purple clutching rain that climbs back into clouds there / is vapor & honey in your chapstick-touched words pressing me / into / corners and I / like the pressing hands in lead-touch; no-subtlety interrogation tongues tactically dancing around & what / was violence in the strings is quiet coming in heaves now, tranquil & slithering / between our ears, into the old paths wrung by the wasps / carrying still / on the cups and comfortable resting on /

hands & ankles & fingertips & rust & wasp-children, slithering / into canals upon kayaks and marketplaces in old jewels, land / full of waltzing bees & striped creatures /

lying in the vibrations of the bells & you & me bursting-spell in

cocoon body guarding tender-guts; caught / me violent // handled like / cautious kind of choke-hold; hand-hold like / whispers between tree-leaf palms / speaking life into uncut stems, we are / vital-signing into a rib-jail, lucid & inescapable, incomplete / as the excavation of catacombs under / the church, we / are ancient bones bubbling to the surface & wasps / in the night, // children of hornets / with lips of fire and broiling memories / so song-crest violent, un-erasable & full / of kind bruises, forest-cities of clasped hands, self-hearth thoughts / that / we never will forget.

[10/30] lisboa

there are legs growing from the ceiling staples

walking in heaves from boards and painted dry
there is threat in red mouth, wandering the brooks of cobble and gasping forward, lurching of teeth
soft-rolling of dentyne serpent, pair of rivers as pride, matted hair statue colonist painted himself gold
stood in the middle of the market, supple coins in tourist pockets, and holes
of jogging pant plaster writhing up walls
gaps in the spine and breast of
spray-designed dancer, machinist and losing
air from the gouges in the lung-pipe metal,
opening into streets, into two rivers, into blood floating out into the avenues of europe
on the bodies, on the chattel, on the human faces I sit nightly, on the writhing masses of history, on the hands that broke with sweat and blister, gathering in the night, dead and silent in the holds, swarming flies and clutches, man looking like me
packed this in, pushed back borders, burned
and looted continent, drags in wall, drags in city of blood and statue grows from pavement,
statue in own image, statue like
eyes,
statues like green gifts from other predatory nations, floating off the shore, drifting into the deep into the mouths of ruined ships filled
with corpses
that we forgot to make monuments for

[9/30] end (iii)

iii.

words like entrail nebulae–buying

time and waking in the sky–sputtering out the thoughts

and grips on the plane seat handle, bump-death & all

gyroscopic drops from earth-ceiling, upside below &

scared of eye, scared of mirror, scared to blink between

heart beat on tuesday, fear of machines, fear of gym workout too long

& heart rate & fear from passing out on a track

legs still sprawling, spinning forward & clogging

lanes with air in the hand-runner that picked you up

you could finally imagine it fully, a

trinket-fragile,

impermanent thing.

[end (ii)] 8/30

ii.

cavernous bones & chair-beat

tapping of feet against harsh-wood & harsh-words spitting

from the mouths & there is existence in elevator

ride next to wood grain, self-awareness lurking beneath a tongue

focus guarding from harm, focus on the strong and

the good syllables, singular-drip in singular, wire

in spine-fingers of wraiths

stone tables, thread, & spoken for

7/30 [end]

i.

bite the cheeksides into rot &

turn hands as they go limp, legs festering in

pillows and damp jeans & sweat driven from the brain-work raining

from hair-forest,

weak & molting on ground; creaking of knee in dusk

walking to feel like alone, like imagine what it was

to breathe in another body

understand thoughts of hives buzzing around me,

tensions in the air space waiting above my head,

caterpillar like the handles of gates in ice-winter

chrysalis of skin and blood,

growing around bone

holding me close

5/30

it was a sound & something unseen, whispers waking in the lip underneath the dark corner now have speech, voice and arms & walk into living room in daylight, hanging jowls and threat-mouth always been here, always been around and been the one i saw in school & talk down and keep me in line with expectation, keep in line with all the children in system, in test room for money and apple like temptation sits on table, apple falling in the garden, apple of knowledge & bible in the class room bible on floor & hand over heart and stand up for football anthem, requirements of children, they lurking in the scrawl on the bathroom, in boy branded feminine crying in bathroom, in feminine fleeing boy crying in bathroom to flee, opening door to girls’ restroom & tears & support & scared & i watched this story but it is not mine to tell & the unseen sound was in the summer air, thick with flies & the plagues on a country already sick, already plagued with apathy & pressure & how thin the line can be between freedom and disaster, how simply and suddenly the once-invisible boot-politik is felt on neck, how quickly we started to eat ourselves, how fast the fingers move towards false protection and repair-narrative, how fast noise materialized out of the ether, becoming the strongarm, becoming red hats in dustbowl stadiums of rotten minds, coming into its own malice, loud & as far as eyesight can carry.