Primal Urge

April 22, 2008.

consciousness untouched for quite some time
direct caress along the eardrum
rattle rumble howl
somewhere deep in the purple shade
twisting unformed down beneath the scanning lights
searching pinning
sensors gleaming, undulating
it creeps beyond, seeking
winding further, serpent of sound

carrying a basket of frozen grapes and discarded photographs
faded, bent corners
coming apart at the edges
electric cry reverberating
pierces the heart of silence
falling into discord before
everything resolves into
march of ten thousand declinations
inclined to debate
decline to state
what found the star beneath the broken gate?

sometimes the darkness rises above
twisting into a spiral configuration with the dawn
sickness grieves over the corner of conscious corruption
with a silver spear in its eye
bleeding tears of indignation
into the soil
from which sprout dandelions dripping pus

starlight crystallizes against the eye
against ever knowing, you shield your face
raising your arm to block out the light
but it falls against your wall nonetheless
battering, grasping, finally sliding away
you hear the last pitiful plop
as truth denied falls to the ground
and you wonder
whether you want McDonalds or pizza for dinner.

Sometimes, watching the moon rise
a sensation shivers through and threatens to overwhelm
a needful expectation borne of unknown roots
laughing moon dogs dance for their dinner
shivering the black air with their satiation
sympathetic hunger pulses somewhere in the center
and the listener cannot help but think of
venison, blood, and moonlight.