GRAND CROSS
each careful crevice
is a calculated burden
the exaltation of the sudden
the acclaim of the other
each luminous caress
is a courtesy
an accomplishment all it’s own
ideas desire to coalesce around
our better precedence
like a new moon in aries
the previous distance from decadence
the date on the calendar has passed,
is always passing
a reflective juncture which demands
one choice between two worlds
the ignition of intuition
gains measure in the ensuing reveal
EXIT STRATEGY
the door closes quickly
as a loud commotion
commences
there are still roads to traverse
it’s an exit strategy
the appeal of inner calculation-
your garbled gable senses
an advantage without a reverse
consent, complicating the totality
of our image- an irreversible reclamation.
this implied construct of allowence’s
deception could not erase the curse.
the archive of our functional commonality
dissipates in a hissing enunciation,
a sacrificial dissolution of the harnesses
that tethered every verse
this vapor of vacant tonality
delineates the idea of qualification
a predetermined absence of consequence
with lips coiled tight in a concealed purse
TELETHON DAY
when I was ten years old
i had the opportunity to be on TV.
a speciality- my fifteen minutes of fame.
even as I had no idea who andy warhol was,
my appearance was paramount. I chose an un- folded
flannel shirt and my aerosmith belt buckle- to be seen
as if I belonged in the frame,
and not just another image for the television’s buzz.
his acceptance was astonishing. he would be told
there was only research and no cure. this path
would be the risk of treatment- the same
moment countless others faced had became ours.
while painting the house during the summer before,
he said he would not be sold
on the science of folklore.
the telethon is being broadcast on the radio today-
they are raising money
