MADE FOR YOU AND ME 1: hive Being (Stanzas 2016—part 68)
Let's workshop this stanza sequence--the last of 2016--about veterans, sea turtles, acne, mixtape virality, feigning abuse, life-affirmation, radioactive cow milk, child labor, blowjobs, caterpillars
cassette tapes once would circle around the city’s boroughs in a virality of dubbing through the penitentiary glass of wire mesh, the simple hope of seeing—something analog photographers once used lighting to Photoshop acne the crazy of those with over-rouged cheeks and over-drawn lips in a milieu of beings not pulled to aid the pitiful, the devil would not play the victim those in the know calling family with orders to flee harried by shameful secrets condom blowjobs fallout cow milk piped into the sea a front path of stone barely visible in the overgrowth the infant’s cranial soft spot, pulsing handing off the kids to relatives for the summer stealing toilet paper from public bathrooms faked super-bomb tests to increase global clout confinement hatching inner horizons caterpillars dropping from vines onto hair litter-removal crews spreading litter to ensure future work the spirit, stealing a glimpse up at the blue vastness, once again starts rattling the bars of a world sequestered to concrete slivers thalassic bottles tossed—one could say— in pitiful broadcast of hope, of affirmation in the possibility of kinship across the void too lonely, too shocked by being thrown into loneliness, not to seek reflection in the emptiness surrounding we announce ourselves, if only for own ears, proclaiming our awakened state through the dark beyond dumb matter wondering what in the void might quicken and speak fear, rage, denial had us splash her doorway and windows, lighting the gas with her inside for being the one among us to bring a case against the corporation that poisoned us all is it because kids are less valuable than presidents and superstars, or is it because too few veterans are seeking pertinent employment, that we scoff at the idea of protecting schools with armed guards? sea turtles entangled in onion sacks Asian acne blooming the western oils of fast food ice cube vanishing in the pea soup tomato slices absorbing sea salt a leader to weaponize our pain naked men frying bacon stand sideways steak knives if you buy the vacuum professors on food stamps wheat fields ri1pple in the sun a reputation of happy to uphold the glass eyes of death tombstones turning entire lives into mere trivia sometimes the subject is not to be centered in the viewfinder always anxious about the future, the repeated slogan of “Be in the present” was just another source of his guilt embracing an imperfection that cannot be cured in yourself, aware of the virtues coupled with it and the beauty it provides to the grand scheme what was the first instance on Earth, before humans, when— to hearten oneself with the gasoline of grievance and perhaps even to forge many into one mind of outrage—abuse was first feigned? helping hands too often grasp phantom victims: evolution, after all, has groomed us to seek calorie-minimal methods to feel good his state of ruin made him dangerous: it had him unworried— perhaps even excited—about all the gashes that would come from shards of the present as he named the possible into life love that could not wait for a revolution seeds a revolution intergenerational dancing he did not need the money to have the “Fuck you” prison love letters mere Miyagi eyes with a nod igniting courage being your own enemy comes along with being a boat rocker what to do when no longer present to perceive anything you do is the very person whom each day you found your chief joy in ensuring was happy? sky the white of Heaven they entwine out of love to shield themselves our biggest threat turned out to be our inability to agree upon what the big threats were child-labor tiger eye stone for courage waiting for the alarm to go off conversations kindling muted wisdom uprisings powered by coercion held the promise of later uprisings emails to the dead Existenz über alles! your craft is no sillier than any other in the face of oblivion those after us create the legends of our time
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.
