Refuse/d words built into infinite forms of bodies. This collection is unedited; done in one sitting; sometimes daily, frequently infrequent.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

word conversion

My mind is a great expanse
And I wander within
it, this place.

Sometimes it is a jungle,
wet and dream-breathing.

A house with many rooms.

Sometimes, it is an ice river,
cold and whipped turbid,
thick with mountain.

it is a drained pan of a planet,
stone-stolen and lonely,
seared by the rip sun:
wasted. All, wasted.

And it has also been a salt-flat:
miles of sticky mire,
my footsteps immortalized
like a moving fossil. 

I sometimes
want to lay down in it,
the mystery
of it.

My body often becomes tired.

I have wondered before
about ruination.

I become a child with her hand in her mouth,
and paralyzed.

But always, always

words are birthed
in the soft murk of the bottom
edge of a world.

It has been like this for us.

From a frightening rot,
we emerge into a treasure funk,

I translate myself, again. 

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