NAKED NIGHT: a eulogy | Thylias Moss and Thomas Higginson

  • Krysia Jopek
  • 0

  • Notice: Undefined offset: 0 in /home/dpress/public_html/wp-content/themes/sarmys/templates/single/meta/top.php on line 53
  • 0

(Thomas Higginson: STOP 3 with:
italic origami by Thylias Moss)
Not trying to impose,
just trying to build structure, form, recipe for holding, folding holds
together: we’re made of this –is that not a purpose of bones inside: give shape to this, bones even buried inside the planet, treasure, pre-history and present becoming “now”, elusive
“now” elephants
in rooms, closets, “protected avenues” –must plow right through, force
of Indian elephants, never forgetting
origami of
we’re here: “you and I for-ever
pur-pose of purpose maybe
building structure, training wheels for elephants
who must sink and swim
Kronos armies, TV sets with legs
on the Mexican beach (made in Mexico, you know) —

the ghost sea is so great, origami ocean, crumples and wrinkles like skin of
elephants poached ivory, white as ghosts, Caspar –they cannot survive
pose for-ever

To set in motion the secret boat so small, can
can barely
poach (now you’re cooking
with gas
chambers, now the alchemy)
barely cut, dice and chop
the wave, wave me down, flag me down, I need some help
this flat tire: get me to the church in time
The way is pretty durn milky universe, Kronos: destroyer of the universe, Shiva’s
half-brother, half sister, only half (circus freak) eats power stations, eats
nuclear energy, appetite not deterred
by radiation, prefers
glowing food: the better to see it, better to taste it
swallowed a journey through
glowing throat, such illumination; how beautiful
death is
when mandatory

If you know what I’m saying –can’t be late for my own salvation
in the dark
the Breton Fisherman’s prayer, fisher
of men, half and 3/5ths, not choosy; they
come from “Fisher Street”
laundry hanging in the backyards, alleys,

lynched men hanging clean
Fels Naptha, water hot enough to dissolve skin”
float on, chug on, chug, chug, chug… dark holes
of memory dissolve into another
meltdown, why not meltup sometimes?
touch hems of angels? –unless they dissolve from just
the touch of dirt?
lake of crocodile tears
from elephant eyes, such
mergers: meaning of eulogy, thick
coming together just to come apart:

gallons and gallons of bleach…
enough to abort everyone, those old ways, tried and true
contamination of all water, even
crocodile tears
bible tells me so true blue, true moo
till the cows come home – reactor core

breakdown pur-pose into cowing, kowtowing
–those industrial farms where cows don’t know what it means to be cows, kowtows
just elephants in these squeezed rooms, moo-ing and everything milked,

Cause I don’t you may

Sing this one back to me –I sing back bones, structure, skin of these things dissolving, slipping away…elephants in the room dissolving into shadows, holes, Bonnie Raitt’s music to dissolve to, to technicolor to: “I Can’t Make You love me, only dissipate, tractor away, tractor back, trapeze effects all –house of trapeze, curtain rods, fuel rods in nuclear power plants, hungry Kronos on the rampage –can’t make you love him –just like a man of pur-pose, scattering his power everywhere, meltdown after meltdown, pur-pose floats, black rain, mere Ivory soap, but this is dirty, pure dirty floating bombs, new Moses-types in baskets…

–we build structure; as if that’s enough to hold everything together, sound of motor, motor-song, little speedboat, hurry, hurry the message, in case it’s all praise –not enough pur-pose for that anymore
“The poem that floats
Its message across
The land that recedes –like memories, elephantized
To the stars themselves glowing hot nuclear meltdown cores of
The recipients” contaminated hothouses!” –hot in here!

The poem curves a line to you –wormhole of 97 realities
Floats a word back

That’s the way we rock the world : jazzy funeral


97 elephant trumpets

pur-poses (these like dolphins, elephants of the see pur-poses
To sleep. In the naked night,
The ocean wears a hat — hat; I wear your hat of fallout pur-pose
97th shadow of
97th elephant in the room:
“I know I cannot live without you”
so I don’t live; just dissolve
and exist that way, 97 puddles singing giving everything back: reflection after reflection after reflection
of endless depth, a top
to top off everything, make it
purty… purty, purty…
contaminated, pur-ty pur-pose
is as pur-ty does.

There are currently no comments.

Your words are welcome…