Birds of Paradox

look at the finale 
like something the raven staged, the 
cyclic folding of the birds and 
the second season of our forgetting, 
successions of warm reptilian summers
and exposed machine 
metal grooves

hey, listen to that 
hi-wire astral applause
rotations of a head blade of sound
five points of life, tetrahedron of light 
the sun is an unbridled reflection
and we must explode the angles that
cage our perception
	electric eggshell 
	burlap star
a single lamp lights the way
where do we go
how do we live
whadda we know

(the eye travels first)
back to the moment when the i is lost 
	an eye that is lost to history
	and reclaims itself in its own shadow
ride the sky don’t ask why, friend,
fixed and flexed, we halt the 
hindquarters of our tongues 
before the dead letter r, ripple of a 
	machine key
	helium pool
groping like a blind 
fish on the horizon

half-awake and with a 
map full of madness, we 
chase the haze of 
the skipping stones of history
alphabets of eternities that
seethe like reflecting 
cauldrons at our fingertips 
a backbone of water 
buried in a garden of 
flesh frozen and 
matter cooled