Beep

Words are passengers
In this vehicle
I don't quite know
That I am
Like all the other passengers
The words seem to be
Under the impression
That they are vehicles
Themselves;
Good for them,
I wouldn't know
To recommend
A better motor
For living.

(not)

I'm

There was an urgency to all my memories.
An invisible voice,
Harmonious and dissonant
Periodic, spasmodic and sometimes
Booming! quite violently
(most memorably);
Nudgingly, I meant
Untouched,
mostly,
Shapely, like none
Other:
An urgency,
but slighter, less understood:
Form taking on the impossibility
of taking shape...
And beauty, always
somewhere down the line:
But I had never owned
It, then
Quite...

Last Flame for Mary

I twitch,
I sparkle and smile
and, before I know it,
I'm encrusted in diamonds,
I am covered in jewels and
bathed in the finest of gold.

I am so beautiful.

I am so precious.

I am melancholy trenches
for I am meadows of idyll;
I'm baroque, furthermore I'm
anachronistic in a neo-post-modernistic
sense.

Babylon burn inside me;

That's how I hear it.

I longed to be free.
Illusion. Too an illusion;
I feared conscription
Way in childhood, when
Lilliputians strung giants
and mother brought gifts
on her way back from work.