Pooling together what we know is first order.
We move forward in each others languages
or not at all.
I am memorizing Rilke, not so far up the shore.
You recite Mallarme over my nervous meditation.
Together, we are mincing the obtuseness of our genetics,
while I down a million heartworms. Later,
we can pillage the rent of other fabrics
aside from language, form, semantic obliteration.
Read another passage out loud, I say,
neverminding the words being lost as tickets. I realize
I am only here
Let’s stop being those people right now
paradies of promise
pioneers steering away from pnemonic pasttime.
It’s time to retire these sinking alphabets and not crumble down with it.
One day, when I am
old enough, rich enough, stable enough
with fame that marks my face another poetic geography
I’ll return these messages to you
And the pooling will no longer be a delusion
but togetherness I’ve founded