2 Poems

by Mary Alinney Villacastin on February 15, 2016

Solar intoxication: Paralyzed, Poolside</br>hallucination state of a lady lioness-ing

kinky hair billowing     wind
      blazing heat friction
          tussled
behind a static face that
          murmurs
      under rumbled
breathes fire
    burns on the flesh
become a flash forward
          wired
receiver of stimulants
    electrified in follicles,
        fuel of dual fools
who stand blank for ground
like no earth could ever thunder
       storm       wind
          conditions
for a mammal born with fins
    to water splash on land mass,
never
       believe in what you want
           forget in what you need
play    contradictions
      with what you begotten
            while you pipe dream
                  forty winks
floating (wars)       past
    landscapes pullulate
underground fates
                  above
solar intoxication
brain chemistry
            mutation
begins
            below
whiskers, wish, weep, worship
feline, faith, fortune, forever ---
      metamorphosis moves backward the rhythm of logic, lost to the talktrack of ‘you’ and ‘i’;
finally, ‘i’ rowr like ’respect me’ means a head o’ hair tossed to the (memory of) lady lioness:
brush me & i will claw you out (of memory). icon of grass grazing, i seek to mime / mimic your
beauty; my failure is your fall. so i hunt your wild in words.

Nevereverland Notes on (de)Tethered Togetherness

1. Fluidity of friction is a (con)sensual (con)tradiction. For ‘we’ need to be one and other in order to organize across oceans. The one sees all the same sea, but must free messages to distant spirits floating beyond bridge of me-we-being. To do so requires fine signal reception. Therefore everything visible operates as symbol, like flesh and fabric of skin, foretelling futures for kin lines to come. [Theory of Scattered Islands]

       <p>2. We humans are a hot dog sold in a baseball stadium, where unknown union of molecular money chemistry balances circular corporal composition: a ball, that is, the game, gambler’s dance, people play of bouncing possibilities (like eating ‘pork et al.’ in a white bread bun), swinging bat screeching, "Win! You! Lose! You!" You and I know not each other’s equal in narrative of evolution. [So they say.]</p><br>

3. (Is) there (is) no fictional fulcrum? No median, only illusionary media? No heaven, nor hell; no afterlife, only allegory. No Atlantis, only Disneyland. No Delphi, only steel towers. No Shambala, only corporate liberal arts colleges. No Eden, only communist compounds. No nightmares, only Dreamtime. [Figment imagination]