blather
stabat_mater
anno_salutis the streets throng
the buildings
and lifebloods in torpor burn.
everyone is opposed
but the mind leaps
to lines and sides.
words pile on words
as if to underscore
their inability
to untangle an act
from time.

some would focus
on the specific act
on the finger pointing
in the courtroom
at the small diagrams
showing entry wounds
and exit wounds
on the american silhouette.

some would interpret the same
finger as pointing past
the corpse
and the million-eyed
discord of witness
to the court
as an act done
repeatedly with violence
but without conviction.
the empty gesture
of listing the particulars
and talking about ourselves
through proxy
words and proxy identities
demon, officer, prosecutor
victim -
through juries grand and petite.

while the rage unaddressed
the nuanced coalescing
of a feeling
simply tipped on
by the concreteness
of a single name and face
builds solid to meet
marching feet.

guilt or innocence
are besides the point.
the body must
be taken down
and named.
the reasons
must be explained
to the mothers
standing vigil
at the crosswalks
swept in one direction
or invited in another
who will raise children
hopeful for a world
where the sidewalks
are worth walking. 		141126
...
epitome of incomprehensibility Choir piece(s).

"Stab at matter" is how I always read it, and that made me giggle. His Dark Materials. Does that matter?

But a sad madonna. Or younger sister. Memory: person ran out of a choir rehearsal because of a bad memory triggered by the song - her older sister had killed herself the year before. And me, a teenager then, wondering morbidly if the older sister had stabbed herself. But you don't ask that. You stab at the immaterial. 		151111
...
e_o_i We are singing another Stabat Mater in my current choir.

It is sad, and what I described above is sad, but I can't help smiling as I recall myself along with my ghost past self and its ghost friends "interpreting" the Latin:

dum pendebat - A stupid hanging bat. Why is it upside down? Dumb pendant creature.

quae moerebat et dolebat - On the dock are more bats and doleful bats.

poenas incliti - (But, but, the clit is not a thing to for the penis to go IN. You lack carnal knowledge, you stabbing-at-matter.)

quis es homo qui non fleret - Who is gay? Who is without flair??

eja mater fons amoris - Hey, yeah, matter totally makes love.

me sentire vim doloris - I feel vibrantly sad.

fac me tecum pie flere - Fuck me or the pecan pie. With flair.

et me tibi sociare - I'm a little bit sociable.

planctu desidero - Planking, decidedly.

virgo virginum praeclara - If you're a Virgo who's a virgin, you're not Clara yet. (You will be Clara as soon as you have sex or contrive to be born at a different time of year. Good luck!)

Fac in portem Christi mortem, passionis fac consortem et plagas recolere - Fuck, there's a dead Christ in the door! (Possibly just a picture.) Passion made us hang out and remember the beach.

fac me plagis vulnerari - Fuck my beach, tenderly.

fac me cruce inebriari - Fuck my crotch, drunkenly.

face me cruce custodiri - Fuck my crotch, custodian!

morte Christi praemuniri - Christ actually died before the door was built.

quando corpus morietur fac ut animae donetur - When you die I will give you anime. Fact.

The surreal erotic poetry is just below the surface, if you can just French (and English) like a Latin lover. 		200305
...
e_o_i I am half gay yet without flair. I am vibrantly sad. 200309
what's it to you? blather
who go from