turmoil of frustrated heart
and unsettled disheveled mind
seeing the glowing damn thing
before me in sight
and nothing I would use
to get to it and realize it working
in art or detached meditation
or even in its basic element
of churning loins and ecstatic spout
---oh the heavens in my head
a fury lately and all the hell I want to do
is heal myself of a life battered and beaten
by precisely this needful nerve uproar
and I spill in an unmerciful
eddy of nerves the only jitter
on a Zen lake of limpid sustenance
a mockery just by being all that
I would wish to be--
but the wish not enough--
nor the desire that upends
the Will--
lost for the moment
to the perfect breasts and ass and legs
of a faceless perfect woman
and found after in the limpid lake
storm passed on but unchanged
in its tattered float--
*
I will grope my way forward--
I'll go as far as there are walls to guide--
after that I spill with everything else in this world
in unmerciful flux--and end where I will--right near where I began--
Content (c) 2008-2009 Philip Milito.
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