had i known had i but known had i grown had i
groaned had i i had no no no no no no no no small
fists on the back of a chair pounding the future into
grime no haddock no headache no pounding
mounds into flat dust no view no horizon nothing
on it hopping stomping pounding grounding grinding
teeth into shards sharp glittering melting onto the waste
landing in shade no no no trousers roused rounded
bounding into the dust brows ponderous face melting
sagging under the weight of thought no no no no cries
in the wilderness no sex no love no emptiness no room
for nothing no space no time no being pulling the surfaces
of things in on themselves down into a saddle riding priding
bucking braiding sinking shrinking placing the grace the
glass empty and dusty standing in lost majesty waiting for
thirst no room no inn no out no peg no hole no square no
shape no definition no fields of energy protecting us from
themselves no drive no crystal no future heading back at
us rebounding from the end of things no distortion no lumps
in the blanket of stars no texture no gravity no black hole no
white dwarf no red mist filling the path of the planet no test
no text no treasure no pain no gain no grain no icing dicing
surprising us with the thoughts of matter inert solid stolid
bounded braced triggered treasured laved and lathered
graced and gathered bothered and i don’t know no no no no
no no no no halves done by no quarters given no dollars
folded no x no y no graph no plot no character no ending no
beginning no turns no twists no lemons no limes no stirring no
shaking no smoking no faking nothing under the hood in the
divine out of your mind down the alley up your nose flaking
dissolving being absorbed in the study of instant happiness
and chronic sorrow borrow tomorrow against today and there’s
no payback no slingback no black no blade no shade no
currants no events nothing doing nobody knows trouble

bubble bible babble schwing

and there’s still no company no firm touch no music no beat no
sheets sliding satin no caressing undressing learning burning
turning care into misery mystery history herstory no
scheherezade no promenade no lemonade being made in the
shade no rhyme no rhythm no syncopation no sensation no
sleep no walking no waking no taking on the obligation no
reiteration of deep thoughts pasted in light behind a glass
front no dump no piss no shit no erection no infection no
body nodding prodding grace into motion no notion of what
not to do no plan no direction no weatherman no feather and
no pleasure nothing at all no one to ball no crisis rising dreiser
alive and pressed in the pages of suffering solace solitary
arbitrary arbitration negation of agreement on the mount
of skulls dragging symbolism down the street to a
predetermined end of what i value most in the world

and i take a deep breath

and i’m still here