Our Hearts Forever Yearning

of Maxwell Clark



Big desert yawns out its scalar ricochets; please don’t die.
Look at that weird thing eat that tree; trees are so despicable.
Running fast now, juking out, getting to go there maybe?
So then no death, then no death, no, no death, lord, no death.
Or, well, look, the little cups of tea still on the counter; eerie.
Secret misinformation gathers thinking, cranium is behind faces,
Calculator life-war on many drugs; pools once exploded, drain slurrily.
Humans are unclean, wispy, surly, acidic, churlish, pasted, gone.
There is this massive overfullness with ambient tensions, noises.
I want to need you so badly, I wish it were true too.

If only you couldn’t ever hear this, it matters not to me,
I alone testify to my witnessing. Remote sensors calibrate.
Chat up your mouth fucking fool, chat wicked things, fuck you.
Heat snakes smear my eyes, I miss you so bad, fucking shit.
The snakes are in my neck, they’re in my shoulders, fuck, shit.
Where is your prettiness who welcomes you back home?
Don’t die, dying is bad, ok?

Trans[c]ience and Other Pomo Jargon

of Maxwell Clark

Sometimes you read so close your own writing zooms out.
I am very excited about this that is happening to me.
If this is labor then consider me absolutist.
Gorgon sound in here.
da muthfuking truf is dat idk mayn.
Ghetto computing.
I'm already gone later but then I was here.
                     Indentation means something.

Line break asignifying though.


Oopxz.






Whoa.
















(((04103 - 06515 soundcloud)))

Brief New Poem

of Maxwell Clark

The armaments peace frills.
Almost number history.
God. Good-person.
Person peace number.
History armament frills almost.