That is Heart
A man's nerves pulsate the most
in between the rings of a phone call
I am that man, and I am
pulsating
unprecedented palpitations
I don't even think it's my heart or
my being, my, my
I
have become one with all of nature
when I think about you
we think about you
I am calling you, pulsating
(bum-bum-bum-bumpppp)
The birds join in the cadence, flapping
multicolored wings against sound waves
forming kaleidoscopes
The trees, monocots and dicots, open
up their leaves to you in the dead winter
(if they have no leaves, they grow green ones)
The wind, blown from the lungs of ancient
deities, scatters your name among the nations
in a breathy, glottalized fashion
The animals tear
each others' flesh
myself included--I am an animal, tearing flesh, waiting
in between the rings of a phone call, and if
if if
you answer, I'll explode, a bloody supernova,
and you'll mistake me for a red comet
and you'll say that I am a spectacle
if nothing else
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