Post Pre-Mortem (one morning in Corinth)

i give up

was it sits eyes that passed through you

mi mi mi mi mi no no no

you'd think everyone would see the cosmic brain

whose hairs

which split ends at ends of

everybody dangles on

the inhumans

were awarded a unimind

i give up

but ask yourself was it I or me

which passed through thee

say that I am capable of juggling 

mirrored letters in a line of fights

each fight held under a parasol

in a clear glass box

except one box is solid stone

etc...

two periods clear

one period solid black

like the possessed eye

of the first demon that approached Saint Anthony

in its little batwing and tortuga brimstone Conestoga

even demonic howls

are pipsqueak lettuce

to a supergargantuan blackhole

whose direct force of personality

rips the time right out of space

you hate my face?

you live in hate

hate so silent in its serene incomparable bliss

and the goodness here

is something

a transparent period

period

balanced carelessly

at the tip of some drunk's elbow at a party

pack up your hand puppets

and sit quietly

in the empty room

all the seedlings

are yearning

for the morning's first holy vowel

I snap out my beach towel

with its icon of the sun

its text writhing and boiling over sands unknown

a joke motto

the howly growl

a search for the howly growl

Diogenes brand sun tangent lotion

Alexander

your pie-bald eyes

baking cakes of cotton