MADE FOR YOU AND ME 2: hive Being (Stanzas 2017—part 15)
Let's workshop this stanza sequence about soldiers running off with indigenous women, hookers, mall photo booths, panic attacks and bad trips, tattoos, wooing a neighbor, homophobia
moonrise drags notes from the mockingbird’s throat mature he was in his immaturity since he never tried to hide that he did not know cliché memories “unearthed” during hypnosis is love at risk when little by our efforts is left to be achieved? frontline deserters of war, broken down not by battle but by native women although constants spotlight variations, the (impossible) world without constants would still have variations those still ones easily mistaken for monks of peace, but really twist more like typhoon eyes out on the balcony, wafting up your sizzling garlic to a neighbor’s heart however cliché, it can be okay to enjoy that respite of giving in to a mall photo booth rendering judgment on a hooker with whom you refuse visual contact taking notes during your panic— your bad trip, or whatever— fighting to get distance from it when read from some discipline other than the one in which he is found unclear, his words are clear mastery with moving razorblades around the mouth Anthony Bourdain and Susan Sontag probing to find problems with the world, as if the old were trying to convince themselves that leaving it is actually their preference the ease with which strangers say, “Listen to your heart,” is one reason to leave your hole seeing in light of what we know (or think we know), knowledge blocks us from and opens us to reality even soldiers have faces their mothers remember confessing to the priest, every confession, that your son is gay the slowing down of time is the gift in the dying of a loved one to get out of unjust and deadly war shooting yourself in the foot is not shooting yourself in the foot Hemingway still rules the day: terse sentences—trendy as tattoos—even to the point of fragments in which one hides one’s limited command of language and also one’s sheepishness if sincerely open to change, how bad is it to tell her that you do not believe, do not do, things that you really do?
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.