MADE FOR YOU AND ME 1: hive Being (Stanzas 2016—part 56)
Let's workshop this stanza sequence about bestiality, God, painters, marriage, Martian rain, spiders, bloated intestines, infant ears, fake sushi, selfish selflessness, homes that lack running water
Thai toddlers nursing from bovine teats busting hymen and leaving handprints in fresh concrete dark nooks probed by bishop crosiers throughout the centuries filling a bucket next door to flush married, on the sofa caring for the sick to secure your identity as not sick christening gestures of the hand for spider webs in the woods that first future raindrop on Mars, heralding an era funds funneled to family before the final farewell just as shadows can live without people, people can live without their shadows— in the pitch black, where conversation is best unless it is just a flagrant ploy of manipulation—out of consistency (and as is expected in our victim culture), if having W-privilege is punishable, or at least shameful (just because it is a privilege), so too is every “privilege”: having two dads, being autistic pretending to have ideas, orgasms, in hope soon to have them in truth nitrogen bloat in compacted intestines the pliable cartilage of newborn ear inheritors circle like vultures fish dyed—rice pink—authentic Japanese praisers of meditation scorn TV for inciting a trance entertained by the attack on entertainment a stone circle, not too far from Starbucks, still hidden from modernity merely admitting to having a problem releases many, countless throughout the centuries, from the burden of working on it: excising or editing or integrating it a painter dabbling in abstracts, trusting that soon the strokes will awaken some coalescence folds of flesh around the mouth, cheeks chiseled with grooves—his face, rugged with etching tales, belonged on a quarter the father of presence must be the father of himself because the father has presence slobbering disableds at each turn (parks, pools) in a land where poking fun at them, even in a way that has them giggle, is wrong those who ride horses only when there is show of consent, but who say that horses cannot show consent when it comes to sex
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.