for lack of better words

i awaken my vegetal heritage

and become a perennial synonym

smelling of extinct flowers

forever attracting melancholic moths

i am a blossom, the bloom of the carcass                                                                             

human identity undressed by enzymes in a multivocal requiem 

an orgiastic appointment

and a cosmic act of intimacy between strangers

  seemingly

 i too am        an abandoned metaphor 

a mass extinction event

               for the pleasure of togetherness

                                                                                                   sharing my corporeal cultures

in a generosity called love                                               

                                   love that is equal to grief                  

      merely a self dissolving into a relationship                        into the existence of multiple meanings

changing the chemical bonds                                                

.                  in the failure to translate you 

i give into the diversity 

and      speak in six hundred languages

 of all the species in my mouth

words slowly germinating deep in my gut

and linger in the aftertaste

of personal history written in a language i cannot read

a parasitic invasion brought about by rising blood pressure   , 

which only compares to the season of spring    .

           over

           time

 emergence gains new multiple meanings

.

                                                   i am thinking     ,

                            which has taken form

but has not yet been formulatedd

a riddle of life playing scrabble with me. i speak to you 

             that way.            assembled, guessed, 

     using the letters of my dna 

and yours 

    ,                  and in contingent relations       

leafing through

sentences of green mudras

googling in vain

somewhere near infinity, i stop looking for the right simile

to describe                                                                                                   how

 plant is a verb,

                          human is a verb                               ,

     time is a verb                                                                              ,

our names have a common root

the mother tongue of what matters

semiotic

         break 

                                                                             down                 in a breakdance  

of planetary spins

and seasonal beats

painfully slow                                                                   .

a worm

burrowing in the chapters of strata

i am the reverberation of the music by tectonic plates

that you can hear in the cracks where plants feed on deep time

these are the futures that can be anticipated

glimpses into the cracks of time

with my ghost limbs

i feel every dying bee                                                        

yearning for the touch of my extinct pollinator

the dialect of labellum pronounces the female bee

                                                                        tongue buzzing in sweet satisfaction

for lack of better

in other        words                                                                                                     biotope

is an endangered future tense

fossilized in the imagination

rudely out of reach 

i will have been extinct before you get here again

when you did

you will experience me only as a warmth on a vacated seat, smell of the river travelling off shore     ,copyright expired

the anticipation of a memory

of undiscovered species gone extinct

present reality that causes a slight glitch in the flow of time                   ,

as always, overflowing 

like writing in the margins                            the excess of meaning

what would you call the aftertaste of a feeling 

the presence after someone has left?  that. that would be me 

              i will be there                                             in time

           that dances with mountains

when that time comes

like a word at the tip of the tongue

i will be there

    at least for that 

brief   –   but   let   us          hope,                    expandable  –         period of astonishment 

// hyperlinked future

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the time touched me like that, out of place,    

and my flesh responded 

in the way slugs respond to touch

i can almost reach you

on twitter feeds

through hyphae threads                                     …

i am a pleasure of thought on a pop up window 

like a mushroom on a rotting log

offering you to join my mailing list

let’s stay in touch

forever

yours