Sunday, July 03, 2011

The Face

--after C.J. Martin

This disgust that begins with us
Flesh of the wind that is between
The wind and things we are singing

Abjectly, I think that’s how you said it
Belief like a labor like an effect
Paid back to the subject in naked force

When the faces we make fuck us up
When a dress is what you address
The faces we make like sunshine

Might harden, forget our fall into
Mass like a poetry I fight against
Call this resistance, charged into

Symbolic efficacy, forgetting I am
Just flesh, the procedures of the face
Cover it so corrosively the world begins.