MADE FOR YOU AND ME 1: hive Being (Stanzas 2016—part 43)
Let's workshop this stanza sequence about sexual swelling, attention-farming algorithms, the Northern Lights, gang bangs, vestigial traits, Trump big pimpin, misplaced blame, mimes
the pussy pump has her flared to the ass of a baboon in heat bloody tundra ice beneath the green waves of borealis plasma urban attire inspired by pre-human hues mocked as unnatural subway humanity acknowledged with a nod the temporary balm of applause civility masking dreams and scars men rush through a business lunch below a painting elevator bodies not bound, it turns out, for the same floor after all what lies concealed behind euphoria? barfing beneath the gala chandelier, the clink of champagne flutes dwindle the staying power of those sustained by more than ambition seamless revision of symptoms after the media reports the others now obsolete waiting for his turn at one of her holes, he fails to block playground memories of standing in line, shy, for the slide the fireplace—once that sacred center drawing all— has been supplanted: first by just one screen and now by many with notification-dinging demands to be fed like our whisker muscles or our fountain-pen cursive, in the jungle understory so many traits—grown over like Mayan temples—no longer serve as they once did if Trump did not have that backwoods base, the White House would have been, no doubt, a nonstop big-pimpin’ Jay-Z music video those days of fucking when a period was no matter through the blur of metropolitan bodies, an understanding glance over spilled coffee only female nipples are censored because—well . . . the gooey stroke of menstruating pussy sobs more moving soft behind a closed door drizzle deterring battles to the death the lone mime turned out to be a potty-mouth: school-library erotica instigating physical abuse for a way out of wedlock strippers whispering military secrets in the gyrations of a lap dance but it is boring to fix the problem like rage no longer adaptive, the tide erodes the shore it once enriched the media narrative that the poisoning is the fault of parents, poor and uneducable, for not keeping their kids away from lead female liberation conceived as behaving more like men means more assholes in the world like oxygen blamed for the forest blaze of cigarette neglect being at home in the world can be negative: you cum quicker kept down over front teeth missing from crack-rock desiccation, his top lip palsies memoire of the rain nonverbal in how the lone flower stands now feeling superior working the holiday—empty gyms and libraries on campus the deck-stacking supposition that the senses aim to present the world beyond the senses motivates classifying them as untrustworthy after extended YouTube dive into one conspiracy theory, what effort the man must make to resist falling for others the feeding algorithm predicts will captivate his attention
This is a portion of an ongoing mosaic poem called Made for You and Me. This portion is from the first installment: hive Being (Stanzas 2016-2020). More specifically, it is from the 2016 portion of that five-part work.