night-blind

2: 40 dripped a universal language by code; rain
cry or hiss of a fox housing on forests edge
his eyes are wilderness
are emeralds peering out
the suture of night,
sage growing exiled
rasp-
berries,
traversing laments;
is to untie irony and chew on its endings –

indelible all is edible
so i hunt a cry that is this
lemma
lying next to my head almost touching my temples [i pretend to read his mind]
progress is heavy
gunfire fire [pause here]    fire
short in those checkered pyjamas
only worn in patchouli impregnated
nights radiating off a brittanica
clutching a map of summer and the flight routes of wasps

will be there
to assemble:
a wheel, a compass, book – talisman of change, repetition of melissa citron
to the subject of libertine that lives between the gaps of a cow like shaped cloud
the ego is vanilla pudding growing an exotic but constringent mold

still awake at 3:41 i note:
aligned orchards
full nihilists
mouth in nazis and beer and the ticking clock
spit out an idealist on a horse riding into a postcard
scenario
squinting eyes to decipher the imprint
– saudade –
i kill a beetle that is as small as the fingernail of a newborn
and breathe in the smell of karma
and the kerosine lamp
and mint bush
braiding a trail through sweaty childrens-hair

i am searching cupboards for the codeword of composition
to only grasp universals
where the nominative is an unhinged door.

en pointe – indulge mercury

all.
be the sky and the stars and the soil
salt and belém pepper fields and the leave that is still
chiselled into the deep end of my one hearing ear,

dear-
est resembling a g-d, suck the ennui away into the vacuum of ether space
don’t take the berries, the leafs with trees and the flowers

smell but grieve
full infinite guesses.