NERVE ENERGIES

Lizzy Borden would have been 
a brilliant computer hacker 
or a milker of cows. I figured 
my figure-of-speech would speak 
to me in figurines (as it always does)
so I beat the odds by getting even. 
I’m an alarmed clock. I’m running 
around the geographic landscape 
on a Planet of The Grapes (of wrath) 
with Basil Rathbone giving a dog a bone 
with my Pre-Internet brain (that has 
a mind of its own). My Pre-Internet brain 
does have a mind of its own 
Somewhere between Thought & Nought 
& has returned back to me with potentially 
deceptive appearances of nerve energies 
paving reflections on the senses, as if 
the middle finger of Galileo sitting in 
a glass egg among lodestones & telescopes 
in an electromagnetic trap had come back 
to life like a created monstrosity of body-parts 
made up of mirrors looking back at us 
with an optical resonator & is superimposed 
upon the unstable architecture of our past-selves 
which are shapeless & absent, like pointing 
the spotlight on a prisoner that never tried to escape.
Metaphors are alive where Mysteries hide. 
The days, the hours, how subtle & fleeting 
this vanishing breeze; the disappearance 
like a turned-over urn; the ashes 
like the “color-dust” of dreams.