One urgent press of my crumbly stick
—a mark on pulpwood fiber—
and bleached, watermark’d world
is marred by desire.

The making of my line saturates,
and I Brando.
I taste minerals.
I maraca.
I floor it.

Carbon is the ash of romance,
compressidue of prehistoric fuck.
Pigment is how earth hallucinates,
locked in vasty dark of rockness.

I be worthy of my line.
  crush upon my empty page.
  make my self a living world.
  mark is everything to me.

O atomic paper
   kalak alak alak
across my sooty centimeter
   rassur rassur rassur
scrape upon a billion years
   sheshuh sheshuh sheshuh
backhand momentary tears...


—from “CAPS Poetry Anthology 2015”, CAPS Press

O Bury Me Not
PSA for MovDis


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Sunday, November 29, 2020

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