BOOK OF J
Just before dying I realized
We are echoes of the Mojave Desert
Imprinted with particles for whose charges we still yearn
Later you said good-bye
One shovel of Newport Beach dirt over me
Where olive tree clouds over green plots
Lean toward a lake reservoir entirely covered for fear of poisoning
What can you say to me
When I came through the ice-blue window?
I came for beauty
Fragments of what I mean by shadow
Where did you think I came from?
The place theoreticians of desire can only imagine?
That house where you waited is deserted now
Every afterlife rides a chariot with two winged horses
Why aren’t you listening?
Humans can’t focus for very long
Suddenly there are lilies but where lilies vanished
A misunderstood saint
What am I laughing at
I don’t really know I went out from your POV with all thoughts
Then you appeared in my apparition
Your repetitions our ambition our chiasmus
I hear you practice other apparitions
Don’t say why
I like speaking through others
You being the exception—you aren’t other
I am laughing at how in the Reno airport
You lost the notebooks of these revelations
Such panic for what? your isolate ambition?
But I led you back to them
Laughing in your dream
We stream in every direction
Asleep and awake don’t contrast
The sun is no direction—how could its orbit contrast with anything?
What am I laughing at?
There are things I have come to destroy
Without intending to
Without any consciousness of
You want to place me inside the beautiful!
But what are your options?
Would you be a decent god—if I showed you how?
There is [still] the organic myth I suppose
You know the way a virus reads code
You love contamination and ululate as words you love the Always
I could have released you—that I did not
Is one of my regrets
Everything else was too full
I opened as I never could in that long body—
I could have told you before I died
Our families are in bondage—some tied up—some watching—
The military mind is not to be rejected without consideration
Vessels holding sensations break
So sky is refracted in shards
Is there any other way we could gleam?
Even to say the divine needs us is speculating
Or say the universe needs us to become aware of itself
That’s just presuming
By the way blue cliffs dissolve into gold
If you could cause a flood or visit your cities disguised as a courier
I left a daughter with a child and a newborn
Sorry transmitting sentimental today
The child hiding in the cycads is she peeing?
My name was unified by a date
And boring clotted volcanic craters in rags
We were booking