Art

language charade dead inside the clade – Sean Kilpatrick

born on a blade made flat

suckling handle scraps

of blood below a palm

we speak serpent balm

stillborn neolates hatched on nature’s sleeve

why alternate the frequency of a scream

just as mute an articulation

ripped from gesturing fulguration

turns pale on the wind

we suck back in

 

man cut the forest

down with speech

couldn’t name each tree

by its individual crest

condensed into recitation

all that was substantive became exclamation

 

then the farmer wrestles revenge into a school

oxen take direction of the page

lines of crop inventory slop

switch speed for muscle instinct for cage

maidens drain the gland

weightlift boulders off the land

hunting milk by schedule

 

every letter neuters groups

of branching sanities

a single goop sprayed not said

lingual instead of dead

ploughed-crotch vanities

cubicles city-wide

sprain the penny

train the many

promised to mechanical light

an exogamy of the gigabyte

turns caves ephemeral

the g-spot of a processor

roving suction-pump professor

as the brain becomes a genital

slots that chlorotic Thoth fills

with a feather in his spill

leaking theogony up a hill

his epicarp clumps

 

chit chat was god number one

fanning itself out pun after pun

collapsing back nations under its fingernail

caking crack ash in the pipe’s rail

like a spider web on hydraulics

like a piss drop turned bucolic

 

that stage of stink rain can only amplify

feedbag confections butt wand bullseye

tanning the white flag

mass graves on tap

revolutions of the billfold

dunk your case of clap into a family

 

have I pleased my wife today

have I licked her where she’s spayed

are her feet my pulpit skewed

is her panty noose shined blue

 

will my husband ask for anything

will I turn over show my ring

and does the blood follow us

why can’t it butter our sandwiches

 

in the year 2055 our child’s casket through a straw

is another biodegradable feature

of the millionth landfill where bitty plaques

scroll by on a platform of light

its frowning masturbation videos reboot

stroked with amniotic juice

the poison memory of conception

became the horizon long ago

debuting in fumes