Monkey Craft DRAFT

[soymilksavvy]

Fighting the corners that catch us,
we tore a hole in the sky
to shine a light
and materialize
dimensional dances.

(A hammer--arm--finger--fist)

We want so much more.
Our stomachs contain the cosmos
and our dreams are unrealistic,
but we have eyes for fighting
and nothing but time for dying.

(A tongue--tooth--soil--root)

Fingertips are sharp,
so be careful what you touch,
but touch everything--
put everything under the course
of your palpatory prints.

(A dialect--language--vernacular--idiom)

Written out of everything
we ride our own narratives--
tear the margins and eat the pulp,
shit out another century of dissatisfaction.

(A fuss--enchantment--tenderness--Little Tough Fury)

We are not imaginary thieves--
we take what's in the toolshed,
strip the site
and set the house on fire.

Here is a physical manifestation
of our constant living conflictualities:
all of the contradictions that flower out of our mouths
keep us so rooted to the impossibility
that is the complicated nature of existing in this life.