beat. chirp. pound. chase.
guided by mud and moon we dance
the heart’s song, the web of man,
yet cut still closer to the bone:
love, death, the beast of being,
the cruel joke, the wrenching twist-
it might remake a god in man.

under canopies of rainlight haze,
how and why we number our days,
may we for a moment stomp our seeing
limbs and howl out the agony.
“we can never be born enough”
birth me then, now, here,
projected like a tummy creature, green and gooey~

(the frequencies we found were too fierce;
fearfully we turned away-

no.

i sing the heart verbatim:
beat. chirp. pulse. chase.
stripped raw to nerves more and footsore,
fondle forever the fuzzy croptop of communitas,
collision, clusterfucktranscendance,dance,fools!
together knit we find the fibers beyond fingertips,eyes,seeing limbs-

it rose like a spaceship toward the sun.