Sunday, December 19, 2010

Poetry: The Western Bodhisattva

Open your dead white eyes and say something re-le-vant.
The East is so romantic (I feel enlightened by Tienemen Square.)
I can disprove the existence of God because without without….

Loneliness is the sound of one hand clapping, beating against—
 the wire thin fragility of Walmart smiles (you call this creativity?)
One plus one plus one plus one is less than one lonely hand….

Please don’t try to explode things with the power of your mind.
Just hold them in your mouth until your tongue turns Black.
Why are the parts most susceptible to hemorrhage considered lovely?
Lovely is as a flower petal curled under a wet pink wyrd.

A secret you should know is that I keep no secrets, only mysteries.
A secret you should know is that there are no secrets,
Only the interpenetration of hissing fingers and lovely sores
Clasped together, white knuckled and smiling.

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