Curtis Stephenson





a. L'essence

                      all sun, there derived a
                      empty madman
                      a medallion
stable sliver of cloud
                                    with a gold foot pushing
rain in the feeling sleep
                       of falling blisters
hunch's full of pills, lets make this blood
                                        churnin spirit lung
that day is today
                  try discourse so small
across.. rustle, sudden fingers of shape
                                gutted doors that pass
))))))))))))))) the begining
                                 dead silver tips forever
pass this humanuh space
00000000000000000000 for fire     children      fear
          cockuse of this familiar merciless sobriety
(around much is becoming nothing, a game of papers
                    and shoutsdown to it
what rained was in the volcanoe's concave,
                    is this what the mountaine has become
is it I'm heading inward,
                is the paper looking through enough
from my black pouch of reasurance, a poke a squel
                    'brisk the reason'
                          said an accordian in ataxia
                          just there from the walls,
aquatic smoke acoustic trembling the air closest -
                   words to stop thyself
come closer  the body crumples, wants you what was it?
        spanning between flames, beauty
pop virgin deluxe liver frying
                                            on the bathroom floor -
                         up a forest trumpets
                          ingrain morning
like the body is a billion billionth to the one way I live
                                that many wayed shame
busy court clerk awork at his own trial
                                           and a motherhood awaits-
left behind way center
              swaping vitamins, ash jelly quarter
after quarter calm of the alliance, instant waiting
               nightly recipricols, joy over fire,
birth the moon is not out of place I have not moved,
                                            stumped begged eyes
it's cold I hide my fists in my sweater
         what battle is it, which whimpering figure was it
a ravage emptiness of knowledge with a centre sac
                           screamed at
                           now scream you
I carry artists the fools
                                   on the river nowhere
drinking their eyes level
            a crumpled fluvial flat where they stockaded
                                                in river's before
an isolation of it all a blur
             before your bare breasted god graviton
                                             go on
crucible eyeballs the javellin is launched
                                    among us all,
the lynch pin heaven reached
                  in a synch   I heard you
  no such longer
                        rudementry phalynx's
facing the road towards stone Olmec faces -
       warm, giant red no one
from here towards another, over building hill's
                     go geese abandon the country mill
                                                the river
will replace the seas
                                   raised by glaciers,
warm body graviton
                                            on you go
               fixing its lines
the universe obeyed
                              was on the watch, loss
they came and made you
               time, inevitable
flesh and war
                        for those who's
                                   horse lingers by the water,
it was the flush of infinity,
                                  the rider looking at the grave
                     (the world laughing)??????????
             ????? galloping?????????

b. L'exlamation

Here gone, enter lax additive moment,
for now come together music box, exit
the vortex of thought is the rest of the hole
                anemic room
it still moves the orgasm the year
of vacum and light, ears and gunfired
  Gunreel machine in the eye
Warsaw for warsawrian's
                by our atoms
                we take side
butterfly our vicarious shadows our heavy fall
the intimate fear what it is, mabye not around,
perhaps not a sound will result
you are born
and there you are born
between the flames of wings

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