consequence of longing

the consequence of longing, empty
under a full clinch of the hollows,
caught between your favorite desire
and the desire to suppress it,
random non-commit.

too many flares in the synapse,
footprints ever deeper sink,
a filter against uncertainty,
pattern emerges out of weary
resistance for resistance sake;
a rhinoceros horn or staple bolt
closes the new in it’s own box,
contains longing as a word,
a pretense to smile and forget.
tip your hat, iron your socks,
build an empire of parallel
coat racks and CFL wisdom. bobbles,
mechanical acceleration,
or chemical aspirations,
keep me from myself;
butter creme and bacon sweet,
fat for the dullness of hard arteries;
to rot (in a hole in the ground,
in a blanket on the sea,
or in ash on the wind)
crawlies will inherit it all,
a feast for the sin eaters;
i could have, should have,
would have, if only
I’d never fallen off
the curve that no one
can sail into the sunset;
the curve I created in the middle;
the middle of all the other curves,
the curve in my own box.

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