Reading Poetry

For every process unknown to me
every small green spurt that
will come to its own fruition with time
the revelations which will not
clarify for many years
illusions and vapor not yet touched
by sun

god grant me clarity
of thought

i sit on the dim plateau
i've finally reached
no view up, all above me
is shrouded from view
i look downward only:
Comparing up from down
here from there
progress versus progress

these brand new heights
these same old depths

i want to crawl into your life
like a tunnel,
clear myself of passion and memory.
Append your friends and your loved ones
to me,
staple the lives
concatenate the sum of experiences

far away from the luxury of self-indulgences
far from the shaky grounds

crawling back to a repeating figure
flickering at me like an aging lightbulb
in and out and in again
black and out and white
crawling on hands and knees like
the forgotten child

creation destruction creation destruction
mouth to bone, void to form

this poor young body
supple and soft
and bony in places
like the neck
where the vertebrae are a line of shells

put your ear there
and try to hear
the seas beyond me