Three Poems
Hassen
diseases i’ve found in books
beaking a. eruditus one or
fantastic magazines, weapons,
armored figs, dewed tragic songs
& their trails of ulcers,
the book bugs,
dustmite
mightmite
dualmite
suckingmite
discolor, gel prints or
negative images of vast landscapes,
silverfish schools or herds churn
prairie dust cloud at
what’s called mass criteria
from a distant cliff to the ‘W,’
as munching cabbage,
the versebug, hersbug, chitlin
remains, the eating words, burning
font, fickle electrons delete,
museum beetle doesn’t chance
macrophage or really genocide,
munch on owned page or cross
breeding bugs inside the pages,
pathogen symptoms
rickets, chaos, itch, relapsing fever,
or the disease might multiply
en masse though separate
treatments, part dust, part color
figure the landscape, the lit body,
logos or illuminated morsel,
lino print, gelatin, deathwatch
faded, thysanura
eats its landscape, its grain, its blister song
gloomy circus acts
can[-n]on of dead mean nuts
undermines some very nice efforts
traditional carrot wobble flip off while we
trapeze-hurl sword-swallow chainsaw-juggle
highwire unameit tap silencio singular in
obliterated light or how do you
say it without its shadow like gender
essentially not essential or like silence & anyway really
genius = singlemindedness?
or that in t[a/i]ming [w]rec[k]ognition g cocktail
_______ immo-
rtality the aha-ha oxymoron(?)
don't let's all be asses or is that just what someone says
i knew it was worth it said someone's wife [valid.] (
ah that)
new method anyway, buck-o, considers dynamic & multiple
knots
an earnest creator inquired “number = quantity?”
a smug scholar didn’t know “no” & details
ah that SURPRISE
all engineering undermines evolution?
all sick postmodernism = gag = lang = ellipsis =
unctuous
gimmick?
hbut not necessarily quantity(!)
hwhy miserly loop a rigid drum
hoping the torches to actualize i’ll
hoard myself lit cleanly thick in sense-ation or
hang myself a neat mute acrostic (ta-da)
----- Original Message -----
Subject: alchemy
I
take away this metaphor i cried to my creator please remove me push me out bear me as new
but impossible your body is my metaphor if you are a creator make it so
i am also yours and i can make nothing but image i can’t form you from unimagined material you can’t make me beyond you
but! i cried i don't like the idea of reciprocal causality! i'm claustrophobic! i cried and cried
I.V
i later consent i can’t even dream life beyond my creator even awake from the dream of metaphor even when my creator shakes me and says wake up my creation wake up my own victim find the solution
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II
our molecules merge fast/slow in hyperspace atomic phases harmonic
your space holds my particles we ride other's waves have you poured
material into material as now we mix our contents my cosmic mouth
dripping of your pure heat your tongue clicks dense palpitation of my
body my thighs mad planets aflame reeling at the thought of my charge
my pressed fluid viscous by your gravity nothing is fixed between us
our divine vial empty/full our solution my creator taking on my molecules
pouring my aching molecules fourth dimensional we fold on our self in
palpation our curious matter examines ambient other we probe through
every[no]thing we nestle in intervening space our molecules gape wide
and empty us of our atoms solvent me solute you solute me solvent you
i swim orgasmic in my other phase
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III
our voltage is beyond material
i am mostly confounded for line
my creator constructs things
i construct things
i ask my creator things
my creator tells me things
my creator asks me things
i tell my creator things
our language a fourth dimension
this electromagnetic field
our surface touches at every point
crumpled as a hypersphere
we are a wormhole
we are double yet retain the same volume as before
what is before my creator asks me
i return smoldering you tell me