wheeling whee!

Oh Goddess why does poetry strike at the most inopportune moments? I have a paper to write, but I went outside for a cigarette reading DiPrima and came back in and hammered this out. I don't particularly like it, but it does encompass a lot of stuff that's being riffing through me and which I hope to capture in my art project. It started when I wrote that, "i insist on one poem pulled w/cut teeth like a fractal before more theory." True enough.

* *
'chakras.'

what’s at the center of the chemical crystal structure of stars?
these lunar helixes mapped
over unruly loved bodies, beaten + bruised
bleeding webs, rub of yarn b/w teeth-
and some electrodal synapse like orgasm charted in green electroline

the coded body has a screen where red lotus used to sit,
the womb no longer ultimate metaphorm for creation
type it out. 28 days 28 29 30
trace the frequency +
it does sort of shape like the moon when it cuts toward dark, thru light,
doesn’t it?
drums beat in my fingertips,
horned animals trod the stretched skin
+ I tell you, it’s getting harder each day
to believe
in the credible

i’m sorry, said i to the messenger, but yr credit’s no good here man.
he took his wings off his feet + showed me the calluses there.
‘i’ve been walking, motherfucker, all these years!’
so I smiled and drew him a beer while he fingered his worrybeads.
+ may my messy steak heart just tell you,
it’s getting easier all the time to know the incredible,
the unreadable
the space
woven in microscopic geometry of flower veins +
pink palm scars.