MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017—part 19)
Let's workshop this stanza sequence about jail release, psychological turmoil, feeling "off," depression, childhood fantasy lands, female nipples, bestiality, determinism, cyberspace, therapy.
blacks fought too damn hard for us now to muzzle people for their white optics how to tell from the inside that something is not right with you questions about what your partner likes and why are not anti-erotic the subtle shift from using drugs to work to working to use drugs grave danger is great for pushing out of mind the people you wronged the untroubled demeanor of the well-seasoned troublemaker as he pimp bops to his old corner (full of jail koans, buoyant as a dandelion seed in the breeze)—beat plosives on his lips it felt perilous but honied, like an illicit affair— letting your turnpike eyes drift shut into eternity just a few delirious seconds longer (one last time) barefoot children from secluded tribes pluck vibrant leaves drooping in the jungle footpath casually as they amble along, just as ours would life is tragic: you feel a giddy surge of joyous confidence braving something your were frightened of—yes, even that inaugural session of palliative-care chemotherapy before stars awoke, the so-called “primordial chaos” preordained the seeds, and all the chrysalid resonance patterns of their unfurling, that would bloom gateways—as came to be here, now, through us—to post-physical songlines pissing postures across species even he himself could not make out what he was muttering waterfalls frozen mid-action in ice fucked in the end by his childhood paracosm— long forgotten but wherein the least worrisome norm was his sexually-submissive marriage to a Great Dane ethical therapists will be prepared to fire clients instead of taking their money while they remain caught in the hydraulic jump of their delusions super-slow replays of decapitating car crashes, bodies summersaulting like soulless rag dolls— yet female nipples, life-giving holies, still a no no were we to keep in panoptic mind how the vigor they sequester fuels so much artistic and technological ascension, we might pause before saying all the damns and channels of diversion “emasculate the river”
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 2017 portion of that five-part work.
