Cravings

San Pedro River Valley

Today I glance at my environs, where
The ether and amber of new uprisings have melted together.
(I have settled myself into a grey and brown expanse
Where King Arthur's sword avails not against smooth and liquid laughter.)

The fate of my safety depends upon a collapse into the sleeveless dreams of belief.

That marriage with the bottled earth took place
With resentment and searing pain, twinned in all time.
I believe I am blind to the surface of their awful haste.

Dead seraphim, guilt-ridden, grasping at enchantment in the
Faces of babies -- worldless and memorialized -- have fostered
Screaming jets whose many-colored angers draw me to
Places of panicked shivers.

I must essay the river's crossing, slipping on unnerving stones.
Nothing began this journey but awful hope.

Cousins, Friends, Faces

With all the possibilities that

Mutably crack me up

Softness across the way.

Rise to your feeling.

Disguises I wear are
falling away. I am a fearful bourgeois

No interest in others taking my place or becoming comfortable
at my expense.

Summary:

I have to drown myself in the average

Amniotic

Pain.

Create a softness.

Daring to live?

Someone tell me how to live.

I don't like you.

You're my safety.

I don't like this call to be a mother.

This life says to me, : Cock.

Don't live this horrible martyrdom.

As this goes onward, I will believe,

Muck.