Slow Coup (for ancient music)
Imani Elizabeth Jackson
it’d have been nothing, (as it has been for some time now
The main thing lately I’ve been against is death,
Sometimes still,
I fall into feeling
a love for you as casual as communism futured as it could have been from the outset
something to look forward to in this slow coup
Lying for poetic effect e.g.: Peapod®: from whence come all my groceries[1], all my nourishment
signed off on and delivered intact. (In truth, I walk to the island and overspend, then wonder
where all the money’s gone. There is no seal or surety. I flop amidst the legumes. I feel so sad
for my perineum[2], feel no fault but my own)
thatanimal feasts in shit and dusts up salt from whatever skin. every body has potential as a puddle. slide right in with that proboscis. land on me
and put those feels to use. if you lick the fish then swallow you can break geometry with geometry.
who else has played victim to the atlantic? i’m no victim really, but was carried. you carry me somewhere else. i love your gutty gathering. try and
break geometry with geometry
please know there is a kindness to sweat. laid here as such i become/a lake. please read the gesture and return it
when you say you feel good in this world we make i say the feeling’s returned
how good it is to return, not as charity but of love
this feeling is not mutual but returned
all day stuck in your fresh lap licked up by inches
and salt-low
and caught up in the rapture and matched to your wearing
i’m trying on a harmony with you, an elegant lesson in teaching/ “geometry about geometry”