Spontaneous Prose (7 minutes)

Spontaneous Prose (7 minutes)

I’m favoring the sounds
of “F” this morning,
because FUCK this.
Feverous in my fecund mind,
my heart following the form.
Were it different — I wish —
I suppose what I grieve would not
be lost. But it is, for now.
Maybe it must.

I scour the insides of my skull
with a hot spoon, culling the meat
from the bone, searching for favor
but finding none — internally regarding
my externalities as pretentious
and sanctimonious.
But maybe it’s me?

Does god know? Does the some-
or everything we call “god”
even have some faculty of knowing
that in any way resembles what we endure?
Or does god simply exist and experience and change?

Octavia Butler says that “God is Change.”
Is my raucous resistance to this relational revolution
an indication of separation from my own
true divinity, that which i displace
with my thoughts and run-amok emotions?
We’ll see.

—————
February 7, 2020
Florida Earthskills Gathering
The Power of Poetry workshop
w/ Eric Lewis & Olivia Verhoye