A Voyante Must Cultivate Warts On His Face

The more you love humanity the more you loathe humans individually. That's what the thorny poet said, anyways. Each time you touch warm lips another word sucks from your vocabulary, a thought dissolves at your throat. The leaves with poison ivy shiver. Should we stop fishing for sacrifices? Leave the nails for wood? Stop showing our bloody palms to the fortune teller just so she can tell us every great idea has a jesus figure? The future cheapens when you try to calculate it, a moment broken into a tumult of minutes, numbers that numb an experience. The smashed telephone still rings. We can’t make a decision but we can’t stay in bed. The water running across your desk reaches for a shape and the window waits for a baseball to break it into pieces.

Corey

Gist and marrow

Have you been led away from your innermost kernel, the center
where everything sticks? The same has made me
sick: turning round and round to see the blind
ginger knot getting smaller behind me.

I have, on occasion, hi-jacked my way back, gone
plunk into the dark of my own stomach, and come up
with nerve-tangled hands.

So few empathize when you go after
the sacred channel and come up
looking like you’ve been
fucking a plate of spaghetti.



jade