Posts Tagged ‘progress’

Only If You Wash Me

08 Sep

Ageless quar­rel made of uni­ver­sal mat­ter,
I intro­duce us as the wel­comed one
Groom­ing the gods and blam­ing no one
Except those who believe it does­n’t mat­ter.

The Silent Con­nie from Cor­pus Christi
Who knew the night to take her breath away,
Gave it freely to kiss holy
The frail man of ancient mon­ey.
Into his breasts were blown blan­kettes for her stay,
Milk and hon­ey words placed before them.
(Is this a pic­nic arrange­ment or some­thing
Hon­or­ing nude dancer wor­ship between them?)
And when the left-hand­ed artist put them in a paint­ing,
Into his bleed­ing eyes
She poured her heal­ing rush.

Go about your busi­ness,
Do what you will,
Dead hon­esty pro­vides for you,
He whis­pered so that all could hear.
(The guil­drun­ners smiled at these win­ning words,
as Lucifer­’s breath scat­tered those ready to sneer.)
Any of your wet­ness­es,
You must wit­ness them here.
Gone about sheer des­tiny strip­ping
Clean of every word­less fear,
Describe the city jug­ger­naut
To the race often come near.

A lion walks the progress line alone
Late­ly behind dark places unknown
To the read­ers of book­less ques­tions shown
Like­ly to rub raw jaw bone to jaw bone
Yet will­ing to speak in deci­sion
To drink a beer
With her talk­ing of lov­ing

To learn the tongue of yet her mouth
And praise the unwilt­ed way
Along the solemn fast parade
Of bod­ies nov­el part­ing quick mouth.

Very good they are togeth­er she thinks.

Naked tele­phone,
Why have you voiced frank silences
Deport­ed in rit­u­al to the bor­der of griev­ances
We sus­pect we own?
The rise and fall of some­thing ear­li­er,
Instructs anoth­er silence pause inspi­ra­tional, breed­ing
Mer­ci­ful nois­es as each will­ing cause shifts
Its shape upon her face freely.

Oh wake up bitch and smell the aza­leas!
The dam is burst! Ocean Silent Con­suela!
Con­sult with him now because I know
We aren’t fit to be labeled strangers,
Just old friends
Hear­ing the hur­ry­ing chil­dren grow.
Take your eyes and plant them
Among the Nuclear Islands, where
There swims some­thing some­one
Left you in his will be done
Across dry beds of sum­mer freely.

You have known the Sep­tem­ber Monk.

Yet in achieve­ment of absolute good­ness,
Some­times the sen­tences jam
Them­selves in traf­fic pro­tect­ing the evening lamb
From the flood of lying freely.

When he nuz­zles her and lis­tens to sec­u­lar eter­ni­ty,
Inalien­able illu­sions poi­son unfad­ing real­i­ty,
Pour­ing liq­uid role into dreamy feats freely
Past fren­zy into grace in a twin­kling.
Women of iner­tia,
You changed into an unwed girl
Not sil­ly but mea­sured like an age­less pearl
Becomes when joy smiles freely, gov­ern­ing
The aisle of annoy­ance’s exact look.
Pro­ceed sound­ing your road,
Know­ing I stroll unrobbed of inno­cense by plot,
Dis­rob­ing the fig­ures dawn­ing unpre­pared
To cash in utter allowance
This cut­ters’ brand of pas­sion,
Cir­cu­lat­ing among my mem­bers freely.

Scan­dal and omni­science were lament­ing our pose,
And I don’t remem­ber
Were they wear­ing pro­pa­gan­da clothes,
Prais­ing poor artists with nos­trils still wet,
Want­ed for per­for­mance and a mes­sage that grows,

Across the bel­ly of a for­got­ten poll
We fly from role to role
Wad­ing through weeds of valid­i­ty.

(The symp­toms stole the attempt.)

[ 1981, Cor­pus Christi, TX ]


"Ignorance and virtue suck on the same straw. Souls grow on bones, but die beneath bankers' hours.""