six

Orphic Measure #8

If a blockage is produced by the heightening of a threshold
it becomes less clear whether it is an asset.

Her characterization of the interaction seemed cruel
so I chose to absorb it.
Out of the clinic
and into the dirt.
You don’t have to insert anything for enjoyment to be there.

The buttercups are both variable and a variable.

She wasn’t deficient in her integration
but everything always had to be mediated.
Regarding the swiftness of her retraction.
Equanimity never achieved.

Drain the interaction of its mediating factors
and you’re left with a bunch of tasks.
The patient and the provider become obstacles to each other.

Continuity isn’t important for everybody
but certainly for some.

Orphic Measure #9

A flock of silk worms sets the scene but
isn’t the setting.
Isn’t it delightful?
Your subjective presence and my
subjective presence.
The setting is characterized by harm.

I’m the expeller and the expulsion
and still all I can do is gaze at the stenotic tissue and sigh.

The quince branch is singular though it appears OVER and OVER,
and with such enormity!
Mimicry masks a much deeper disjuncture.
Degradation brow furrow
furrowed brow opening.

The figure by whom it all is revealed can only be
seen under candlelight.

It’s already relational
no need to avoid mediation.

Orphic Measure #10

Organize an entire life around observance:

Hark! Hark!
I observed, now what?
Plenty to do and plenty of time.

Hark! Hark!
She has to be observed for the reason of
because her rhythm has accelerated.

Durational admittance prohibitive remittance and then
the spectacular crumble.

If hyperbole gets people what they need then
all will move through hyperbole— I’ll see to it.
But Aimee would rather I punish and extinguish.
Not degrading just perennial.

Orphic Measure #11

That’s tough, man!
The not even knowing!

Parataxis, parataxis
and more parataxis! I’m exhausted…
This way will never produce a dehiscence
not even one.
Dehiscence kowtows at the coiling semantic threshold.

Her timbre touches me but can’t quite reach into the fold where the fluid is accumulating.
Decompensating at an excruciating rhythm
but we can’t identify the source
neither in the fold
nor in the scaffold.

Once attested credentials are entered
we all have a party.
A clown arrives to unknot the deeper disjunctures.

Aimee and I are both perennialists
but I’m the one who loves Ferenczi.

Orphic Measure #12

Purple swing reveals something.
Listen to the plan and squeal.
Hallucinatory rhythm of my stroll—
accumulation of structure.

Structure here is candlelight.
Timbre slides through the fold
takes some fluid with it.

You are sitting at Duboce park yelling at your hand
towards the end of restoring your subjective agency.

Encounters admit duration
duration tugs on the wrong kind of encounter.

Nobody knows whether or not they’ve spoken--
certainly not to whom.

Orphic Measure #13

Admitted fantasy with time elapsed
it’s all there in the chart, the serial tug.

Spat on the candle
choreographed a dance to the fizzle.
It’s a very Jungian way to work..
(doesn’t impress me much).

So as not to be godless
the nurse practitioner resolved to take everybody at their word.
To tug on the urgency before it rots.

I’d rather be a shield than a drain
I’d rather be reciprocal than a poet.

There are multiple appearances but only one attestation.
Singularity is the dehiscence:
pushes through!