Thoughts While Drunk and Swimming in the US Treasury Building’s Decorative Fountain
I found an Aqua-man action figure!
Bathe in the fountains
As the water flows over me
As the water flows through me, as the water
Breeches the moment where I am separated from the tissues in which I live,
As history passes through my
Keyhole
I open wide the door and
Feel the four directions,
Feel the elements of change
In time eternal pulling me through the path I follow yet
Imagining the connections beyond me
Now pulling me into a network beyond me,
Atomized, as above so below
As within, so without a nickel
Scaling all form
As breath as coins
As rhythm,
As waves
wash over and through me [cheap gong]
Under and unknown to me
That I get to experience
In this Sunday Samsara
East /West pause
Experiencing Tengriism on Yo MTV raps
Experiencing Christianity in the Schadenfreude
Of a million ant bites creating a living dying carpet overrun by its own species
Strata of rock connected to a Grand Canyon of
Healthy social hive works
The earth heaving, cracking
Water and lava tumbling
Like the curl of a Madonna around
The center of a galaxy
Full of waves spiraling out
Words once again sigils,
Runes spoken on dumb tongues
Unleashing forms as they will be spoken
I become a cipher, I become a tool, becoming an instrument
Of precision yet accidentally…
I draw the mess of a war with a certain je ne sais quoi
Into my cage of breath, feel the rumble of heart beats,
Echoes of lack, indeterminate points in time
Microtubulin hierarchal edifice more complex than the Pyramids
My rNA a vehicle I drive, my experiences hard-wired
Into the coded circles of DNA, as they were before me
Passing through me like waves
Resonating from forms pulled from my tongues like
Naked roots of plants yet to have evolved
Sighs of my future ghost carry on the air while
This poem becomes read
And enters the codex of another mind,
Assimilated
Undifferentiated from other errata
And the surface is meaningless, and the substance unknown
And the intestine writhes to transmute the sun into dung
Scat becomes mountain becomes inferno of nova
Becomes tender eyes of loving children looking into gestures of adults
Searching for answers,
For inviting shores to wash upon
In this vast, oceanic diaspora
I become far away even from myself
To return again
To return
September 11, 2011, remembering October 29th, 1990
