The Reading

I will not recite this in a stylized chant

I will not read this with a poetic voice

plunge into change capture the source

move with it you do it join this dance

flamboyant pleasures and hypnotic pains 

of heaven and hell do still come here

grafting and translating with tongues 

that lick at the ear

open mic without punctuation

pregnant pauses wafting in the power failure 

lilting off-kilter rewilding the body politic

stir tiny minds of little worker bees

those who trespass against us rebuild and resist

resonating in the distinctly American

dissonance projecting the same on to one another

star splitter trifles in this lifelong curiosity

expressive talk about our place in infinity

witness Chloros on the stage disappearing

the dynamiter wallowing in the red-blooded thing of things

next up some lover of peace trying to break the mold

in a theatrical voice laughs at manifest sublimity

“And I looked, and behold, a pale green horse! And its rider’s name was Death.”

invisible spirit mold-breaker on the world stage 

recites an offbeat algorithm in a highfalutin rage 

invisible spirit the force uttering my story my choice

freak flag flying fist-pumping stickers 

emoting a political vocative voice 

shout who is in power who are the extremophiles

behind the lectern or standing on the podium 

head down screen time cross walking white walker meth

over the double line hypnotic presence

lost phases escape in the scent of a smile

lost ways a sense of the wrong sickness

you say you just want to defend life on earth

you say millions of birds die every year 

flying into glass skyscrapers and all you wear is denim

incanting monotone do you feel the beat of the world

I will read this humming to my rhythm 

I will read this to the beat of my word