In the different forms of alienation some other entity had obtained what was proper to man:
in religion it was God, in politics the State, in economics the market process and cash nexus
At the end of the capriccio we each reinvented the last night
of youth as we knew it, in which,
so you wait, one determines,
there are no prerogatives but to return to the car
and fog up the windows with your socked feet and sulking.
If the old compunction in your mouth will not now
be voided, and you won’t outlast righteousness, seal in
the soda sound of your breathing, and then open the door again
on night, moonless more profitably, as to walk off here
from the commonplace porchlight has the benefit of peril.
Or, in her bed that night have the protagonist ask, Is what I am
the thing I can do? All her life, one determines, she will mean
never to forget the vocation’s imperative, as the finer dancer
remembers falling
is better than fashioning a fall.
First, my body related me to others whom I did not choose,
and this was before I was a subject, so what I am comprises that
humiliation of my judgment in matters of love and this
attempt to recover ecstasy, volunteer for pleasure. At least
match waists with Evan. Rotate the trunk while holding
the arms fixed in a hoop shape. Polish your elbow. Zero in
on sympathetic laddering. Follow anyone’s finger.
Maybe at the end
head out into the movement field a final time
with the company and the touchpoint actions
a sideline of proctors listed to see you repeat. Select
pleasures made tasks, let my body find
what to do besides, please, because
this familiarity is the one I leave with.
Or, in the corner of the boat the tide turns beneath
a spider covers her territory. Tomorrow, the long day’s
sun. And you are he who carries her eggs in his hair and needs
his something slaked. Him in the mirror tarnishing above
the stoppered bottles. In that bay beyond the bayside
bar—around whose cool brass rail a boy disunites his
heel and sandal—she runs again the rim of the rest of time.
Since, why stop at youth, one determines.
On your stomach, rear back high. Yes, this is my well
you’ve fallen in, and I need you now to remove your shirt.
The fire moss is crawling with why you came, and say that
in Portuguese, and again looking now into the camera
say it. Boa noite. Boa noite, Vitor. Come out from among
the others and be ye separate. Starmint stuck in a dish of pennies.
Or, you teach the child to spell his name in sparkler light and feel
you shouldn’t’ve. He autographs the night, but it’s not hereditary.
Light another.
So who are we? We are the life force power of the universe,
with manual dexterity and two cognitive minds
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