the destroyer > Jake Syersak

THE MIRACULOUS ARMS OF WILLIAM BLAKE



dear everyone
please stop trying to be god all the time goddammit “if thou are
the food of worms, O virgin of the skies,
How great thy use” growing fainter
as “the American meadows faint”
vertiginously

into virid swerves of Jell-O at the back of an old fridge I saw
resembling some unhinged notion of
a soiled dove
that I felt myself as
as I went along crisscrossing
the streets of Enigma, Georgia circa May 23, 2012  “a cast Spine writh’d
in torment” impressing my every step

on the mainland
of these remainslands weighing down upon me when suddenly
I was overwhelmed by a dwindling notion the slow-motion
of dying of bees by the yard-sale
dreams of its
residents’ dilapidated trailers with the air the smell
of iron-on t-shirts
& robin’s egg-blue engine coolant it’s so easy
to let your heart come unwound when it can’t yet take wing “Yet

helpless it lay like a Worm
In the trembling womb / to be moulded by existence” that I & you & everyone
we know
persevere through by peering through as “The Vegetative
Universe

opens like a flower

from the Earth’s
center: In which is eternity. It expands
in stars” in dead-eyed stares

the western expanse of winding stairways to heaven I’ve seen
the same
drones the same
delusions of grandeur expelled through a poor man’s
as I have a rich man’s eye the same rheum-y
unroomable accrual
of flights of fancy lacking adequate legspace I say fuck any heavens
that would expand without every last one of us
in the honey
frothing from the mouth of every last hierarchy
a “forest of affliction” pouring
forth from within the throat-slit sun & far reaches of earth becoming

one
& the same

so what thy hammer what thy chain “When thought
is closed in caves.
Then love
shall sew its root / in deepest Hell” through the holds
of a one delirious skull

through whose arrival of sky forever we
wade through whose
eye is whose sky is whose eye is whose sky is whose