Spontaneity

When a graffiti writer points at the wall to force a word upon the landscape

to benefit from putting it there on the surface of the environment Public All That Jagged Perimeter of other objects be my page and pressurized permanent there. There. an omen of the imminent No one owns. I write my name here. I place my words with keys pressed this dead end of language taciturn mute nature speaks from my unnecessary yearning to be heard I made this mess on the wall with my only name and now I have

the thing in all of us Howling from the deep The out the other dark the hidden side of what we do the sword the quill select me put my voice in silent in the parabolic spike crossing the threshold First of all in colorful fumes saturating the earth so much buried stifled in the skin of this world but still breath gathers beneath it waiting for anyone to remember how to bow how to lay the ear against the unseen to let the whole body become a cup

do you know how loud it is here inside the hollow

how many are knocking on the inside of the veil

with little rain mouths

and songs made only of the color blue

Somebody is about to say it

And it’s not me

Speak up!

And when it really starts going…

Y’all won’t even remember how it started

But we’ll be like,

That’s what I'm talking about!