Cut Noose-Loose
(to Steve Smart, after reading break neck)

Meat (meet) a neck
who
nose (knows) what to do
and you’ll sea (see)
He’s as narrow as a vain (vein)
model fiord wih no deph
carved and curved mirror ocean
by paper machee cliffs
reflect a sir-face (surface) understanding

I tried to listen to farther (father?) fetched ideas
or my mentals /mentors)as I grew up
but I could see the glass and black coat
behind the illusion
fhe flatness of rigid repition
the rhymes and cliches kept jarring
at me like the breaking of containers
like ice spreading scars and moaning under social pressure

Waiting for the blank page
to do something
I head-butted the rules
i believe what I read, so i believed this
I be leaf in what i read
so I shed off the green clorofyll
that the tree of knowledge, of writing,
had filed me with
To be colourful, to fly, to fall, to float
in fall
my head hurts from the impact
I cut myself and I’m bleeding
the arsehole that suggested this
made me really hurt
decomposing here
but making new soil
part of the seeds of potentials
in the growing earth
instead of the lofty leaves
sky-reaching in the crown

I know the bricks too, they shaped my fingers
just another, I stop myself to not start singing
Pink Floyd lyrics and cartoon images
flash into my head anyways like raven (raving) clutter
Observing more and talking too little
to avoid quoting informercials
or the next pop song they’re killing on the radio
‘north american scum’ and ‘satan satan say dance’
jingles on until the propaganda becomes the ad
and you end up buying the damn product thinking,
chanting, that you are no automaton
that your ways will free our minds
that you are free
and original

I am a pure breed child I am told
aryan and not even related to the poets
my puzzle is a few scattered pieces of found text
my writing a mozaic of things written before
yet I find myself and things I never saw before
in the red thread of my jungle
and I too am determined to find a language
a point in image
to all these words inside my head