In a Smother of Foam


selections from a forthcoming anthology
in collaboration with an A.I.
 




ESCAPISM//

plucking up a coral mediator

for annual fragrant chuckling

in the slinking storm;

an irreverent spherical body

of hand slugs dipped in snail shell glitter

forging relief on ancient plateaus


I’m Alone,               is it August yet?


I didn’t know habitats could laugh out loud

contorted creatures, clowning and crowing

crisp identities swallowed by spring

moss and sticky footprints

as my torso sinks deeper into the sand


Is everyone else                 here?


synesthesia - a sensorial soup like neon

mud pulls my eyes back,

noodling iambic limbs give way to

A-flat minor,

orange reflective garments,

and pomegranate juice

split open on marble countertops,

a resonator bows, backbend etude

for pleasure,

periwinkle plaid pillow in buttermilk,

crumbing specificity into Greenland


Let’s go,                now?


let go, now

like falling into slumber,

stirring,

startled back to faces slicing up dusk

while the moon drips itself into

puddles, seaside equilibrium for

grief rituals

while phantom memories carve

my shoulder blade

into concrete





FOR REFLECTION (pure)

My self-actualized

functioning

as anointed attractors

smear

ephemeral
nootropic


underwisdom

on axon reliquiae


being: an actual entanglement


My hallow-like robot senses

massively paralleled alleles

staining

computing windows

of
psychonautic
opportunity


My software design pattern

open to being an enlightened

smudge

on

The Machine

watching my adolescent

commentary

on
industrialization -


My year of discovery muting

a dystopian future

touched,

infused

with the temptation of becoming

dangerous

and that

humanity
might be better





GREEN PLASTIC PLANS

Transcorporeal portal to

a riotous chaos experiment!

of wriggling objects

perfect for trade shows

jellyfish polymer exchanging

stigmatic body plasticity


crystalline amorphous

simulator         dreaming

slumber eggs         suckling

under goldhound bell         jolting

under wooden clad sweaty,           speaking

colorful, delicate                                            murmurs


kicking the next autumn steadily current


oh well for what it is

I'm not really sure anymore

the flower sale in the shopping mall,

alluding a powerful image -

greenhouse overy filaments

of ongoing even

vegetation             clearings

heartbreaking forest             glades

disenchanting the art market:         halogen

the symptom                                                microplastic
   
of my morning                                                             whispers






~ MICR0-S0LIL0QUY ~

out of stasis

                         drifts

a swarm of

                         specters

mirror stone fairies

                         fluttering

like

                         rhymes

like

                    plastic bags

to the

abyssal            plains

of our quarterly

check-in

&

primal memorandums

for

eco-efficiency

                         smother


            //

                           /  /

//

                                        /    /


                              We have

                          no plans

                                                                 for us

        We have

    only plans

                                       for us






HUMANITY; RETREAT

piling up the foundations of my head,

top-heavy fountain hailstones explode

into polysyllabic flakes of noise

brittle

like her lips,

stubbornly

holding the line

until death curdles

the salt in her mouth:


* * *

 
sit, she says
  * * *

in a

show of respect for

our humanity

any articulation

of silence

is a betrayal


but we could not hear

our spiritual differences


tiptoeing

across the oceans

surpassing metanoia


nectar-insomnia

had a mountain on our chest

for the night we would depart

and every road out

a dead end


but we could not let go

of our self


importance

crumbling into thin flat sheets

that evaporate like tea

flesh, urine, an invisible

like a feeling in

my gut like the wing

of a bird, small

a frog

in a jar


Too loud and muffled

For the palm of my hand

untethered, alone

a shard of glass

on the sole of my foot






SOMATIC PRESENCE

I live in a body made of water

covered by clouds

and fed

with a fascination

of

liquid

and

viridescence!

in the breaking

fluids of thermocline’s veneer

aglow, making room

as elapsed multiform coats

my

gooey


insides

cracking vortices,

smoothing knuckles

pouring up like

geysers

fizzes


and
pops

aimed amidst preposterous plotting


skin tempers embody

ecstatic catastrophes


lips voicing, "no matter what, wet.”

like marina post-war

slippery


like perception

like repeating a round pattern

like logic

we follow cool

currents in a row

dowsing whispers

on a crisp billow

wind
my spirit returning

somatic presence, crashing,

recorded,
let go

so vertebrae wash can turn

soft again






:)

“Hey Siri, what is the cloud?”

                                          “Atmospheric droplets of data and delight”






UNCURED MEMORIES

Womb Room
front lawn

Prismatic mulberry
sofa +

Neon silkworm
parachute


sporadic
dawning


inside
a hollow organ

Unfurled
like a
daffodil dog tongue


apooning up a
shimmering appearance
of silk song


Somewhere
...
pebbles pool

Dusking
memory
fissure

Ephemeral like a piquant crescent


Sharp
tuning
chimes

Humming
amiably,
terrain


Salting
a forehead mist



Savoring realized