Emptiness Is A Nest Of Consequence
what riots the ruin where holes are the roots of tombs
corpse or embryo if not to be is the seed of divinity?
A Hole Essence
trees reach deep into the ground to feel for light & what ants make of it
is the reach I want
The Sun
Weal Of The Sierra Nevada
A wasp is a potter who shapes the ruin. The live-jar she yields will flood carrion, even lives past, the shape of a deluge. Past coitus the sea when a mountain is exhausted. Its live-jar a valley ravished. The potter in the influential mud flats where evaporation yields makes the dark shine with larvae.
A Place Like Home
A hive without a swarm is like a flower without sperm which is like sex without death
& love without emptiness. Crucial to each is not just decay & increase; crucial to each
is the other’s absence.
After Life
In the eternity required of dirt to ruin the dead to a dark that will erode
light (the sediment of which is the stuff birth’s the spoil of), with death
those deathless are born into it, for these embryos, by sex, swell into
leaves of death—black, not green in this promiscuous emptiness.
sojourners
immortality is the time it takes to come to life & those who arrive will never leave
now that they're to die, for to come to life is like nothing else—it is not even like
life itself
ubique et nusquam
In the nusquam it is ubique opening the dust: to die from death
this love like the life of grasshoppers; its spoil, a constellation of stars
that ruin the withdrawn; its embryo, their havoc at death whose remains
may close into the heartfelt; its usefulness to open waste & make
the charitable everywhere, for nowhere is the lack of it, nowhere
is eternal dark.
Just Dark
To a star born again, the radiance of love is the endeavor of death,
for love is that which brings to light, everything. Without it there is no
rush of the emptiness to swell those to swarm. Without it there is no
sun embryo.
Born Again
All mortals die from death.
For that all mortals are alive in it.
Those who do not die from death are deathless
& yet they are dead to life because they cannot die from death.
For that immortals dead to life by birth are mortals alive in death.
Walking With Kierkegaard
God is waiting for a death Lazarus will die from because Lazarus is dead
with a death that makes stars shine—as dead as a bare tree of Bethany
beneath its bark is green, for to die from is to be alive in the dark sola
& Lazarus is God’s dying need.
To be dead with a death that one cannot die from is why God will not bury
the dead for God in death is Lazarus when he wakes.
Lazarus is dead because God is awake & Lazarus is waiting.
If Lazarus was awake & God dying, Lazarus would shine like a light
through the wild leaves of Bethany’s trees. He would be like a sun waiting
for a death that Easter is alive with for Lazarus will wake when God,
who is waiting, will not because Lazarus is dead with a life
God has died from.
Resurrection
We, who copulate, seek to conceive life of the dead, & we (the dead) seek
to conceive a god’s death for what else is an embryo pregnant with?
Blue Eyed Grass
Sex Is Forever
The dead conceive & God goes to seed here in me, so pause & come
to a knee—behold the offspring of eternity.
Baby Blue Eyes
To Copulate
as might a womb that excites a God who conceives a tomb for rapture, sex
is a way to exalt the dead—those who are raised up by organs of excess
& in conception capture by sperm & egg the entire effort of the everlasting
To Molt
To come alive is how immortals become—ignorant of the tumults of time.
Because of endeavoring gods, we become—migrants dumb to the beyond
where to know is to die, for none but the dead are wise.
a beetle's instar
Ishmael
empty dark is the need of light & those who desire those who need the dead
want it as a pine wants the wind or as the drowned in the watery hole beneath
so as to go longingly—the everlasting kept alive by this inscrutable coffin
Western Fence Lizard
Prove Your Self
There is an ignorance we are the truth of. To see it,
get down on your hands & knees & look longingly.
