essay 360 : gossypol
when you enable editing, it foists down into the molecular
structure of things
such things are searching for virtue: are being sent to you,
pleased, as if the information were verbal & also
technical;
yet again when
poetry burns it generates air ....
in that a link is trashed over to sunrise thrust yessing
a now gives panic grass, growing thru caesurae
like nobody’s bizness;
& in fact it is nobody’s bizness
just fumbling loan word sequence renewal;
the large plastic container is always half-full
and punctuation’s only necessary as a form of puncturing
leaving ways of feeling & believing & meaning
where i waited in the cool mountain shadow
for that urgency-jumble muttering to find form;
poetry is always
written in error whiplashing across
presynaptic immobilism: an integrative imp;
the longer you wait the more the tonic accent
tugs over like steeplechase, or leaning tower
broken w refractions like a speedway
& unduly eventful
writing is gossypol: a toxic phenolic pigment found in cottonseed:
found in moments paring down to the new last line:
a double-widowed & moonless corruptionist
carelessly flipping ripping thru pages damaged by
tears tears glad-handing roster calling
OK straight flush, &
disinhibition? i’d say
ya gotta lurch into grappling w a glyph show:
unrooted musics, right?
eye, E:
poetry is its own fucking solvent
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