You In Hymnal (Written By Somebody Else As Me); Or, Secondhand Mythmaking 330: Adoption and Rearing

I hear her eyes 
fall on the color spectrum Some
Where between
Chartreuse and Infrared and 
the sight of them can 
cause a man to delve in the psy-
che of The Woodland People that once 
inhibited(sic) 
The Anti-Mountains of The Great Plains.

These builders of civilization conquered 
the internal uprising against 
The Dying of Light and those 
eyes reminded a modern man of those 
times past when 
hunter/gather's(sic) 
were seduced by the Native 
American version of 
Medussa(sic) 
and to gaze upon the iris caused 
one to cry and recall a fetus 
inside the womb of Sacajawea 
and the celebration of life and afterbirth that 
flowed into The Mighty Mississippi 
Ohh So Many years ago.

steadfast

feet patter & pit,
cold linoleum
bipedals A/C
flowing brains well
healthful & flourish

    Taking steps outside your bed;
    foreign funky
    unframed,outlined
    webbed,con,tin,u,a,tion, of cross-
    ed state & country lines
          
    just decimated, re-
    drawn blue skyed;Art needs
    some thing to
    art against arou-
    nd,from:High

    tide.

hands curl inter
locked fingers
entwine unlocked oxygen;
Wily lived in the 
forest for years


  

Quotid Jones Met Ravish Rupture-Smith

'per
 hap
     s' t
     he
'gre
     ate      st'    's
ong   '   '   eve r'
m a   de            ?

l                       o
ve a
s in-
semination bir  th       ,
wa          t           er     -
ing        in     -     choate
breath   fin          ger tip
stretchhhhhhhhhhhhed(
Cha       rle          ston C
                                     hew);Death put off.

Excerpt from a Story I'll Never Write (Only Live) (III)

Thank you

    (lowers jaw,
                      nose,forehead
                 even with her own,
                 lips plant)

                 for being patient

                 with me.

We
ll(eyes

vibrate      
taut, drill boring core
mind soul heart)

I think you're worth it.