Noise Complaint
I hear it but what is the instrument
that voices the flashing red light strain
which no wrung gauge twisting the possible could
and not implode out of existence
we all know—
I have a few things that need said
no humans have gone without saying
how hard and deep a deal this being has cut.
The sun rises straight down the hall on the bathroom mirror
bevel rides the walls waving prismatic rainbow
festoons straddle the edges of doors orgasmic knees crunch
a prayer spectrum compressed to screaming brilliance—
minutes later no food no money to move your shit
piled in the middle of the floor for eviction.
The driving arm of the cello section runs
the white hot lightning strokes headlong
tearing out the track as the way the music goes
the inescapable rhythm’s smoking
situation sounds like what it’s playing—
these people barely aboard attuned to train
a composure over continual abyss
not specied for flight no air but over— a heated scream.
One old blues sounding line hums up some shit
so deep the very chaos of
it all fell in
for the time being a sooted black life suited
the burning cities the streets
fashioned of the latest survival the hot hit.
How hard and deep a deal this being has cut
in one line in Lead Belly in “Black Girl” he sings
his head was found ’neath the drivin’ iron
his body never was found he asks
her where will she sleep the night she replies
in the pines in the pines
and it isn’t this particular night nor some. one
shivering woman some long lonesome time ago
it’s the ongoing
it’s the national
anthem loop holed through
which it gets out of
its own laws its own song across an escape by
from sea to shining hell rising up the horizon.
2020-10-19 21:49:57
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