Highway 41 (Tamiami Trail)

All these sentinels, slate black
herons, snake-birds

hanging unmovably
on the road – for the meantime
the world – on its
shoulders

crept into the part of the
passer-bys, reckoned but always
dismissed

we keep moving straight ahead only

the orangely-buzzing ball, heatedly egging
drops itself
folding, turns over the edge, goes silent

crept in
we pass by reckoned but dismissed

like the eyes of the herons always
straight ahead only

straight ahead only

ahead only

always
only

Captiva

How we travelled, to the sea;

flat-fingered
the ceiling fan runs across its rosary

we lie bodily-wrecked
it prays for us in neverending circles

How we travelled, to the sea
without arriving

I push my leg
over to your side

How we travelled, to the sea,
to settle down

waiting for tide, for the sea
to come on its knees
to partake

join in

Nightly passage

Turn off the light, you said
and I fumbled for the switch.

Three-phase, alternating currents
(the loyalist forces)
making way through filaments of tungsten -
resisting, up until the end -
sending an emission spectrum
carried by the photons;
wave functions
crying out for help.

Click

Soon enough the night is warmish straw
spicily smelling
we are become piglets, pink and breathing
the rhythm of muddy snouts.

Hooves tap
on the dreamland earth floor.

Autumn social

The buzz and murmur moulded

to pairwise conversation;

calm winds turrning leaves

Methodology

baby
I was out borrowing hands again
many of them

      dauntingly many

the well-known whirring
of the mechanism
as I extract,
sort the methodology
five equally sized piles
are making it
my own

I consume only
denominated things

06:48 pm

Hands are glowing

on the face;

scoring the point

of no return.

blazing

down memory lane in a stolen

funeral car

so late,

making your escape,

making your point

of no return.

The Consecution

Somewhere in the Negev
I chose to face the sun
turning from the deeper scarring
flame ignited in relentless hazel eyes

Quietly crumbling,
consumed by flames of shame
for betrayal beyond which – like
in the Negev -
there could be no afterlife the same

Like wings you spread your arms out -
no longer in the once
inviting gesture – but
to manifest the multitude of dust:

“All this sand is but the ashes” you said,
“of all the long gone Phoenixes unborn:
the duds, the meaningless dead losses;
the weaker birds, that never had it in them
no seed of new
just blind destructive urge to crash and burn”

And somewhere in the Negev
already crashed I faced the sun to burn
for betrayal beyond which – like
in the Negev -
there could be no future pages
left to turn.

Phoenix, Arizona (on the Valley Metro line)

Ah! You polished your lies; they were shiny and blank

(On your left is the life-line
violation’s on your right.)

there were never intention of writing you back
this lie is inertia, you leave me right back
[this line is intentionally left blank]

it is death by oxidation:
breathing freely, silver lining turns black
[this line is intentionally left blank]

this lie’s what’s in play now:
a damp, oozing crack
is it just the same line? [intentionally left blank]

Be that as it may;
Our line’s being slivered, ECG turning flat, on the firing line. This is it for us, these are lies back-to-back; its all along the end of the lines.

You’re my life turning blank:
(me? yes, way out of line.)

The bottom line is:
[intentionally left blank]

Elementa

Once again morning.
On the tongue lie corses
in unuttered banks, the
darkling words of night.
Flat taste.

The daybreak creases
around their formlessness
to form a throughpierced shroud.

I fumble towards the surface,
moving in mire-green Waters.

Hit the mark of world, fall
out. Eye-filling, deeper.

Fire is missing, the elements remaining
librate lustfully towards one another
and towards the boundaries of each.

The sphere of the faraway Fourth
leads the dance, she pulls the strings
towards brilliances of Water
and the brittle slip of Earth.

Like moist paper, the humid air
is crinkled.

And gasping
the mire-green stones are born.

The Expedition to Aiolia

The drawback of being a dynamical system
a weathervane, if you like
is that I reassess my whole existence
by the latest feedback
of an unstable reference signal

Earth covers angles per units of time
the particles are run by probabilistic relations

and still I seek for perpetual value,
dream of having a constant named after me
and is ashamed of all books of instructions
that I have not read