The Word

i worship the idiolectical 360° gradation;

my altar is all:

plato, buddha, allah, darwin, and the

rest that lulled to sharpness gray

matter under mind

and you

and you

when you say what you think you know are

All Mighty.

Neither bible nor textbook can

hold The Word i seek, but i bow

before each

eye that looks and mouth that speaks.

033012

was outlining

the petals when

they began to

look like little labia -

l lips...

that spoke me out,

a lively whisper,

that keeps me in.

I roll around

my spongey tongue,

its clay -

dirt -

anyway; molded and

molding, mushrooms tickling my scalp,

sometimes feeling

the terror and the joy

to move (ahh)

by association

to the end.

advancing back

'Have we grown?' has been

the question; but have we grown

too far?

we've come down here

where

"your happiness is not my responsibility"

echoes in the

mother, wife, n children,

an incalculable deluge

grew - who knew?

we did - too much - and then

did too much - kill

the light -

grope and sniff

ache and lick

touch and kiss and

see through

bright blinking hearts

you are me

me

are you

ok Oh

hey, I forgot...you mean the world to me.