Your face is standing near the door of my sadness,
inside a house made of nothing, pressing against the plexiglass
of the shooting range of my depression, in goggles & determination
the surround sound of the bullseye target, the bullet of
amnesia, the grenade of memory—Fall stains, ochre sorrow
and turquoise pain and then the umbrella catches the rainshower—
of melancholy. You are lost in your thoughts: I was just a door
you couldn’t unlock and the clouds hover over us like tàu vũ trụ,
its aluminum façade a second mirror or lake for our hidden sky
that night I refused to make love to the five different fires of mania
or to a reticent patio sitting alone in a sphinxlike forest—
all the appliances in this vacant house are charged to a wall,
plunging ennui into the abyss of my nearly empty expression,
a depravity of modernity, & beyond it, the inevitable void,
the illusions of subsistence cleaving ethos by ethos
into a vocal cord outsung by an un-sonic veil—a fog of damnation:
it’s not a polar bear crying into a pinecone, but a bush
hushed by loneliness, hallucinations, & despondency &
insulated from the turbine of painkillers & antidepressants,
I am standing against the basin of time, near an Android phone—
a device that can’t mirror the higher strata of my subconscious
an electronic ruler to post-measure history against history:
If a smartphone has to announce to the world that it is smart
It’s like telling an ego that its self-image belongs to the number zero,
whose magnitudes are reduced to a disarrangement of binary codes:
she/her, their/them, he/him, she/him, he/her, their/she, it/they,
and who is right to say: gender isn’t an emotional game of Tetris
a collapsing playground of incongruency, sadder than conformity?
Our psyche is walking around in an anthropogenic beauty parlor
waking up gas stations, spas & saunas, lawnmowers, nail salons by
driving a bipolar drone called being human into a polar bear
whose coat is a sad case of dandruff and thinks that hyperthermic
intraperitoneal chemotherapy is a kind of climate change or
an interactive 3-D simulator only seen in war zones.