—for P/J/R—

Of course, Chaos
is not virtually nude, canola oiled,
genitals ensconced in an elect carcass.

Chaos
is the hypoglycemic girl-guide who contains
all the keys
all the keys to
all the city’s access and
all the keys are sugar.
Chaos cannot contain
the complaints—
she admits there are no doors,
yawns, does not unzip, faints.

First I lick her keys into pens and knives and become a poet. Second I develop desire thus desire the development of doors but I have only pens and knives and so I poet hunger. Third I tire of poetry without anything to eat and eat my pens. Fourth I unzip Chaos out of each hunger and desire and after I again become a poet, so with my knife, I write. Fifth Chaos awakens and I reveal my writings written in blood.

Of course, nothing in nature
causes Chaos to care
about poems. Chaos won’t button her own
khaki blouse, won’t restrain
her recombinant bounce. I enrage her
realm: It is all mirrors, in them all
myself asking the image of myself: Why
am I an animal that wants? I mean
what sort of pearl ravishes its shell simply to be less raw, or
rather, are there any organs I possess
I would not traffic to travel further out of the organ of my own
skin? I am unincorporated
as concerns the limits of my own living corpse—I can’t
copulate with enough identical entities
to recognize myself at the other border-river’s reflecting space.
Again and again I recall instead an image from the other shore:
Not of my mother.
No—of you,

you my friend

allowing me to envision my mother
and then envision myself
not like water but like light,
absorbing then exiting,
unafraid of an ending source.
Again and again in the easy access of the memory of
your listen, I am able to imagine my mother in this way:
In Love,
amazing because a thing I never knew.
Of course, I knew you.
You were my Worth.
And to see you seeing your capacity
for potential capsize
all other options, to see you see yourself in the arms
of
the other
and out-living all
understood joy. This alters the identified arenas;
creates the livable unknown, concedes the lover may never
be known,
allows me to let me
kiss open Chaos
and bloodless, be
the rising
creature caring