smell that love rising,
a plant coming up from the dirty dirt
breaking into sun and struggle.
it’s the medium of explosion,
the go too far,
the split a foundation,
the crack a fundamental.
it’s a whip wrench cracking
and then turning a nut
on the juggernaut wheel.
it’s a crack of narwhal horn handle
on the parasol raised
for a forgotten brilliant day.
when a god finally exists
that god is going to want this
for sacred groving.
that god is going
to go full-on backslide ape for spring fever.
that god is going
to want love in a box for burning
on the sterling light altar
of get around.
that god will get someone to start something
and the something is going to get bigger
and the dirty dirt is going to get paved and
struggle’s going to be big, bigger than last year.

April 18th, 2012 at 11:19 pm
love in a box …. i wish it could be captured… nice reading…