“Ashbery? No, let's talking about something less irritating” – Boris Izsus
All our, jugulars are gone. Thinking to
save the, Shall any of this Morning
barge in our Hearts, in a simple
concoction—[?] The commotion
shouldn’t do it numb or, the Rubber you’ll
be considering to slip, truly sniff
sweetie in ribbons, against the Sky, in
a vacant peace, stare of an eye, gone
fishing or, finishing what’s left of the
disposing of The Body, boy
we all believe that this will happen
in Time, I’ll have heard all the racket all
this insidious weeping, which remounts
to stroll under our sleeves that tug
in the Cold air, under damsel’s feet
funnily, this inner ear, falls, far enough
that surely, the Plunger will Happen, perhaps
stamp on the meaty Source or, how
this ascends me, exiting this life,
in
it’s all the same, swollen & sitting
in the Past, where maybe we’re all False
today—[?] The great difference that
arises in being Bad, shitting out
a half-assed adventure I, too
shall end tonight, at Midnight
our tiny Home shall be Tidy, the array
of everything at Peace this winder,
wonder, that will come with a Man,
tomorrow, I imagine, the goal is to set
sail to the Shipping out, of each
Idea, shall make a Period of Nobody
was in black, strolling amongst things
green, ripe with Torment, coming to
an End, never Ends & this moves me
all the different, all the same, I’m
shore, I haven’t been envious of You
went in the meantime, to rescue your
flesh, hooked by the Hook, giggling
with your Mouth, filled with Blood, whole
years zipped right by our Sides, exiting
in something smelled awful at Home
another day passed & said “We End”
& we didn’t End, this murmur was
our excitement alone, like this Burden knows
each of us by our rotten-rotten Name
me a Song, in which I could Fall, as in
falling-off are you yet—[?] Yes, this
is all for Naught, but this Day, that is
coming, shall surely Change who calls
to place our Bodies, oppressively
smushed to the Wall & waving “goodbye,
goodbye” to this Mind, distraught &
bat-shit crazy, was each of the Witnesses, \
burning & bashful, so as to violent this
blindness of love that I have never
ever had for You or, now how we speak, knowing
the purpose is to Melt, the Face upon
face, shan’t observe how tidy, is our
tiny Home, was a structure in which
we entered & were carried away, to
the Heart’s mine-volcano stiffens upon
our Neck, muscles that atrophy along
anyone, who’ll let in some Breeze in
these Lungs, surely, no one cares &
the EL in the distance, shakes me to
my Core, the sound, backing each little
grab upon my fingertips, was your
Face, had never looked so Beautiful
& nameless, under this Premise
was the Fight, that eventually, would claim
our Lives, now gone to Park, gone
with last year’s Spring, brought me
home, I was Home now & no longer
bloated & floating each night, under
the Bridge, where the replay of my
Death, went on & on & this nostalgia
vexed me & this Life only thought
bleak, everything so bleak along the Park
we Lit the whole City in Flames
for it to Fall, as we Fell, each
one Nameless & faceless, facing
this negotiation of Flesh & bone
till the bitter-bitter Ending, this was
how I cranes, telling each one of you
inner things about things that’ll come
crying on our backs for Proper
posture when dying & we said “sorry,
sorry” I really just don’t know about all
this fussing about the Weather puts me
on the Edge thinking “is this the
End—[?]” No, no your Family
Won’t come anymore, the more
Cheerful approach to personal
Injury of the 8 who could Count
their Wounds in their Teeth, clenched
this House, is surely unbearable, arms,
seasons, memories of the Hooligans
we used to be, in those better years, moving
from place to place how extraordinarily
shitty it all was, truly, truly coming
to an End, when they’ll know us
by our rotten-rotten Names
