this is how I speak in tongues

I no longer know if this cyclic motion
that escapes itself and moves outward
after intersecting FLOWER constitutes
a graph. Unsettled concrete unwinds
so long as it is pliable and I becoming
personally am likewise lesson ontological.
Uprise me with your sanctioning.
Near the signs there are yet paths
uneyed not blind but nonetheless.

Mist you are the epitome of Michael Burkard.
I legged until my toes were plagarized.
But this isn't about me. This isn't about my own
betterment at theft. I wanted to steal
like a master and subordinate appropriately.
You fed me regularly. Relativity like constant
MUSIC mist. The metaphors are many.
Forest is the thick.

It was up and down and turned into itself.
It faced itself into a map and took lifetimes.
I still cannot find the nose yet closer, closer is the ground.

October, 2005