Fever

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When wrought pain
melts your axons
do not gasp
in protest.
Let the ice
crystals
expand &
caress your blood.
What use are your
fingers
anyway
'xcept to
imprison
all that is free?
- pouring
murdered thoughts
on paper
- shaping
the untouchable
- spreading
the thighs
of the Universe.

Do not increase
your burden,
accept & welcome
the imminence
of the explosion.
Get high
on the current
running thru your spine
and if you're lucky enough,
you won't feel
the intrusion
of the iced blood
on your overheated
core.
Then,
only then
will you know -
for a split second
before non-existence -
your centre.
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Trial & Error

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I try to
erase the paths,
yet I find
myself
retracing
your steps.
Had I been
a hermaphrodite
snail,
I would have
gone back
to my other
half,
blissfully
speeding
on the rainbow
snail trail.

But
every building is
a daguerreotype
of an encounter.
The stubborn stucco
clings
yellow with jealousy,
the cherubs
accusing me of
a roundness
we never had.

Waiting for the
sword
of the gargoyly
Justice
to cleave
my vertebrae,
I suckle
the remembrance
seeping through
the cracks.

Waiting to
putrify /
petrify,
I try to
unlearn
what you
never
taught me.

Waiting for
illumination
through stultifying
repetition -
chanting the mantra &
waiting.
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In a Killer Mood - again

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