1/1/11

1/1/11
by Dan Raphael
a new face to the year
same place with new constellations seeing through where the wind keeps threading its strum t
o pull apart, to penetrate gently like roots growing from my feet, not an infection but an expression,
a creative interaction coz surrendering and resistance are the bread in this slice of life sandwich,
stained and microscoped, slightly scrambled at the genetic level–lets do the helix again,
have escalators inside us revisioning the spine, pull out the nerves and go wireless
direct from fingertip to brain, interfering envelopes shimmer like jellyfish:
nothing remembers like meat, a 90 day novel,
from gestation to infestation to festivalium,
even on my knees I cant quit dancing, seeing through the floor as it was reverting back to trees,
mud and fur. if not for wind we’d be skinless and walk differently, the wind moves the wrong way here,
elevating only parts of the body while shining primary colors like tattoo needles and dentist drills
emitting molecular feathers gently nudging their way into innerpsace, takeoff to bake-off,
make up to make out, topographical game boards I rollick across, paths delta diverse,
throbbing nerve-waves stranded in a tide pool with 7 moons tugging me unaware of the others,
like smoke coming into a chimney and becoming fire, almost a full loaf of tree love
yeasting in my belly, the logs would rather return their gifts to the soil but I don’t let them,
I use a moat of concrete to slow the would-be disassemblers of my imaginary home,
mortgage paid off but the increasing debt of habit in an uninterested world

trying to pull the walls tight as a blanket while seeing their expanse as all the world I need