The Brutalist

When surveying the populace
the poulticed
When lithely seeking little
then some
When listlessly supine with genetic preference
When so exhausted

Then I compost elegies for energy
Then I gulp up n’up-at a purpling rum-serum
Then I beat root and inhale expansive post-portions
Then I wall-mutter Hallelujahs while
calling on miracles for minutiae—

All while intervening between fists!

And how I finally surmise a pre-Colombian sonrisa;
and how once disparate enough for a fading begun
And how laughing at America
and the million maps of
its sociologists

I can’t desist;

For whom I reconsider resurrected cognates
For which I step froggily acrost
black steamy death below
For whose spirit is suffused
of echo
of sapphire vocals

For them I reel! For them I reel!

By which entertainment licked in Leger-like tubular shade
By what edible coloring adjacent-to the pecked-at popular
By freckling-why when slight
and endeared


By sculpting consciously an open-circle epistemic dis-ease!

I believe

rendering ash,
in perforations

Now line miming

Buddha’s quarters

Now, is it the upturned mien before?

Now notchless,
a re-capitated grave

Now barring this—

My lone winged

my all thankful for,

but not,
penultimate yet