Our firmament confused

Following whenever the tails he is ignorant of
action-potential, potentially following wherever
he goes his sidelong steps light as being a hum
in a vacuum which writes neon slurs on waters
inside the cell and outside, and vicious therefore,
and because for, he was born, cried, was young, died,
did not thread his calciums together in such
rapid taperings he forgot half the things impossible
to see and forget wholly, and forgot personality
is something keen from being to being, depending
on the mandibles used and if kissing is potential.
Or speechless, like the poor earwig hands then absent.
Or cripple, walking in the manner of flushing waters.
Or unaided, like no thing that belongs to a system of things,
biology of imposing be that as it may or not,
likely not, the axis a lesion of trampled lipids
he spoke through dully mumbling but he died surprised
as the young are wont that distances chirped in response
his name though he didn’t til the bark know its form,
being built shuffly by the palpitations of his household.
Things took after his name in likeness for twenty years warm.
As it is with all necessary skewings, limbs and head or no.
What he did with his time was the sleep of narcosis,
or pathology, or dithering, or attempting, attempting,
always that and assaying whether is all that is needs be.
He failed the body of body of bodies, back then called nothing
in the way nothings will call nothings, or not call at all.
He treasured sleep knowing such things could be called
by words our instruments our kissing potentials as
the fact of his own name, its briefness and license, an action for nothing.
The word tolerable is not only a device, but a science, narrower than what
we like to think of as the outside wilderness he bothered with narrowly.

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~ by Jeremy on February 24, 2012.

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