Arriving Unprepared: for Jesse Bernstein & John L. Harter
Take a look around see what you see tell me when the phone rings the door bell the ring of fire the burning bush the inexplicable answer.
Hopscotch jacks Russian roulette one-season talk shows grievous sin and repentance you can’t short-circuit attraction. I dream of Jeannie with the light-brown skin Mulatto eyes the Jamaican sway of her hips is this sin or just a spark from God’s eye?
For years I lived in a pigeon coop on a roof converted to resemble a mansion. I hang on to the little things.
It all makes sense the key of C G-minor the cool drink in your hand the tamed lion the sweet child with diphtheria.
Mea culpa your weak options a sky full of stars and warped space. The small mice that nibble the fat rats that gnaw the cyberspace evolution out the back door of joy. Here I am starting over like the day I was born you can’t take it with you shake it off dream its guts out.
More noise please I am secretly an important man God bless Jesse and John, wrap your arms around their frail bones, soothe their pain.
I’ve seen the best minds of generations splattered white and viscous on the horizon of long-barreled hate and still there are women who cup my heart like a wounded bird.
Dream on. Up the ante. Fear no evil. There’s no such thing as forgetting just one-eyed misunderstanding a hoarse darkness gorged on infinite light.
Pray tell has my voice gone flat am I wrapped in barbed coils of dissonance?
Grapple with priority, mind wrestling in the mosh pit of your blurred streak of awareness.