Unrelated Thoughts

Poems that are not in The End of the Word as We Know It, by Wes Unruh

Monthly Archives: April 2011

by dawn we were riding

with the whistle
we are off, a horn

copper dust and mountaintops beyond the horizon, blue skyline
layered, painted in the distance
coal fires smoking, stains

were three blind men staggering under their crimes
you were dead, hustled out of the shadows
here and buried in secret just enow
broken when I fixed it

left too long these whistling pieces
brain mush, target opposition sneaks in again

pacts, coalescing intentions drive across this swollen ground
it is not your land, not now

what you hathor something bullmarket
in midworld mind malkuth? Black
forest heartached, left schadenfreude treeline
spat arrogance, tumescence in act
if not in deed, indeed…

white stains, clouds without water
a sputum–come: Take this thread through these thoughts, this text…

O

or perhaps 0

null. A point of reference

from whence to befinger the pointsman

some pretty good privacy leave the door propped open…

!

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New Wichita Vortex Sutra

“so the town sucked you back”
we sat over dinner, I been
sitting down over dinner
and sitting down over bowl
for a month new moon through
full and back on to now,
it’s noon, no job, no purpose
to fill, just dog food dish
overturned on kitchen tile

out the door to Tyler, to Ridge and Central
down 235 to Broadway, a half-hearted
veer to freedom and away, back to the day

we are staring up at a statue
she holds my hand. the river cuts
and we hold our bleeding
together.
can leave only a hatred behind these days
this kind dawn

the airport harbours strange craft
we see entirely too many triangles
bulk in the sky. helicoptors, a dirigible
private planes, hot air balloons

skyline is lost against the plains, the horizon
and trees and she pulls a kite.

cannot be consciousness
of your sad city
your spinning suburbia
of your soul carved
yellowed, docufied
and remanded
into custody
i do not wanted

these are twinges, flashed
upon, forgotten
and flaunted
for fate
cannot be conscious, caused
to be cautious
by fate

and driven and given and taught
(she loved me enough
to read me Candide
by gaslight)

and I… I never forgot

what you have
wasted. Her moment
a tree walks, here she rides with the wind
here she speaks with her hands
here she danced once
threw you the glance
once
you took a chance, once
and never again
burned your hand.
that you wasted, pain

remind you you live
remind you you gotta give
to get
in this feedback

elastic waistband
land

fuck
show you fear
in a fist of grit

what then man,
bones?
some sin?

you you
gotta give
to get

What this lie is then
as we have a single moment in which to dream
it comes from my hand

and awaken, thrust into spin
and I am altered by it
to arrive undone,
it wears me, and grows stranger still
half-whole,
it grows through me

thrust up against scarlet worlds,
and alone I am
a dusk of headlights,
unhinged, tongue
bruised skyline
swollen, eyes dry

and given this
that somehow my moment is stretched thin
daily slaughter
that my dreams are solid, stronger, a fierce
hour iconic, vision replicates
and irrational belief in fate
each golden arch,
my scarlet world somewhat strained
each passage inward
by the fists of compliance
guarded swords
and in vivisection my world bleeds
flaming wards, slaughtered,
content to writhe
in pain sacrificed in firestorm

the letters vault

bleed flaming words
letters ink sparks,
leap stains
a vowel alighted
the book gashed
aghast

there we set our new values
we are trapped
by the abstract tyranny of time
and trapped
by the vacant memory kept for us
in concrete and bronze monuments
in plaques, in statuary

would we then wooded not pour out
from hearts in fits and starts new art
out of which could spark a heat between
carve a friction, a new solid,
a birthpang, a plasma

and new growth demands new layers, new stares,
a memory and a new contentment

and new dreads, new beads, woven silver bells
a cotton weave, a tie

there is serious leaves
kisses in trunk carved initials runs sap:
amber like wax drips

and clorophyll the green is
and chlorophyll the flame and we are
and summer still is
and greener
is still are.

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