Tango de la Materia, No. 33, Epitome No. 3

August New York
She came in waves
Her contractions rose
In a crystal rain
A façade of corporate personhood
Lucifer fell from grace
To save dear God aesthetically
His icy taste an ornamental apple
An orbit of divinities
The angels flew to New York
At the shot of a Brooklyn gun
And by fields of sugar cane
Coming on
Leaving fires in their august city
The gardens of remembrance
Ghosts kissing on the water
Falls sunrise in the grassy desert
Catch the industry felling grace aforementioned
The industrial desert calls
To a stormy old soul
A weathered storm
A ripened fruit at last breath withal
As time insufficient
To bear flower to reality
'Tis just a moment comes and goes
Is all in all
Won't you watch me?
I want to disappear into the life like ochre
The existent non entity
A gentleman of cordial depth
In his glass taste the humanity leaving
Tumbling silent and digital
An Arabian night
Full moon gap kissing the air in her lips
Don't force it
It's too subtle
The former absence
Glows now in the metered echo
Canons gouging memories
Beneath tall ceilings
Elevating consciousness
And modulating cordialities
In receding openness
Less current to speak of minds
Just contemplating
Disseminating
All the room free of conversation
The great American opera
A toss of hair turn of a page
In the fading summer breeze
Rising to trust in the ambient ideology of the spheres
Recluse persistent and silent in the gaps the music breathes
Willing to stand empty of posture
A figurine ineffable
I stared him dead silent in the eye
'Midst the cultural rain
And we met so soon
A façade crystallized
The repetition a fresh dream to imagine
To realize
A carrier pigeon
A trapeze artist
Flying over the river
Though a free bird never flies
He just rides the current
That's all
An eagle scouring the bald heights of industry at sunrise
Scheming his thievery
Drunk off the moon night 'fore
A wolf on the American prairie
The industrial desert sprinkled with grass
Porcelain rain to nourish the sweetest parting sorrow
A scowling meditation
Howls our souls into past disintegrations
Of the steady meet
The glitching hue
A ghost of routine
In newly lightened netherworlds
Like moths to ambiance
We flock to gods
Infatuate or contrived
Those stormy lovers
Flying circles 'round our weathered eyes
We're by some hope then mesmerized
My love was a naked downward spiral
Eyes wide shut in the dark
Groping for whomever with gusto
Left in tattered hearts
A current swift to coax a waking motion
After her abyss was stilled
She came coagulated
A summer wine
Lightly chilled
A shiver down the spine
At the peak a violin
Déjà vu
Watched the hood of darkness
Breathe embroiderings of black stilts
Above the pointed rooftops
Harboring the olden souls' gentle arrogance
In the eagles' eye I was poverty
In the wolves' I was crying abandon
A panic so rapid as to still
Distill serenity remarks
The dark is mere the light
Where yet to point us home
Where the heart is scattered wide
A gestural dance of love upon a prairie
The cemetery loosens us so deft
That the horseman lost his head
Chasing the tales of birds that sing the sun
It's dusty in the empty rooms of soul
And we've no doors to close behind
Rather the foam of sea
Coming so close to home we die
Sipping merlot with the blackbirds
A dash of blood beneath the wing
Twirling sparkling water with the bluebirds
A ray of sun in flight to sing
All through the thickets' swamp
Where thieving masters capture things of grace
And rape their souls that came too far
Falling irreversible without a trace
The tails of wives of old
Goodnight my lover
I've lit a candle for you too soon
The savannah is a golden flame
Where we imagine we came true
Though even all in all
A moment came and went
Then late one stormy night
By that same candle had been lit
I felt our shadows had been drift
Up from foamy sea
Ghosts kissing in the august fall
The New York symphony
And on the prairie where the rabbits play
Their holes of darkened shame
In American persistence
We can simply turn the page
Toss our hair upon the wind
And meet so soon again
Carry on another day
For after all and all
Love is just a whisper woke
That we must proper cultivate