Melancholia Sung by Joss --  
Zero Part

"Timetime, you fockker,
you mustached horse,
you gallop back -- back, --
back and forth between must
and not to win race with loss
or was that force? --

Timetime you willing trollop
I am Joss – love, we are lost
until our hands chaffed
we are led to another gate
where we sing Rastafarian
banter and we smolder and lift
without fate’s zero winds.

---

Meditation on Time without duration.

"Time celebrates hero. Joss rocks her sexy course
in celebration of actual moment -- that first one --
Better than big bang orgy revealed by the scriptures of Joss.

"I woke in this dream and wrote it down I am caught by Joss. Love her and caress her. I am. She is. We are pleased we count to that irrational number writ down in margins beyond last."

Present Tense

Here, on the beach
where tumbling tides
space withdrew
and amber skies grew
with celestial grass
while time-time, uncut
sword -- good knife
murdered big bang
without retort -- please scream
while you die – live, I cannot.
Time will not let history
be stained west to east.

Dangle please -- dangle cheer --
Cross-legged I rub a dub rub
bare sex and sing from backdoor
to gallows begat with Sunday themes.

Deafblindtime draws rape
while we rock our jitterbug form
snug, Cyclone paused as we fall
midst heights of background
noise in amusement park ride --
gravity stalls while we at a quarter
to three, first moon spends --
hands will not grip, my palm
and fingers slip skin
until red sunrise
labia filled flesh at time
half of a half and quarter of not 
mistaken for ruts in lines
drawn my dying stars
shrivel cold while
to revive big bang
forced into self darling
mass for homily cumuli fingers
in mockery of dock
celestial motion shocks
while tick tock stars kiss
to fecund blast came
wallop to stop
mid nighttime races
we fokker and bubble --
swallow last cluster
day one of day to come
as the syllables suffer
prime numbers no value

I stop, open mass gates
where Terra's unknown moon
grows lilies to decorate rooms
where I disgorge
then swallow my sun.

Breast’s hard and quick
I ride copper clouds
mankind for my saddle –
I raise, point my toes
flash black leather boots,
whip and bare breast.

Nothing begins 
before the birth
and dying of words
for I came gangbang
bigbang to swallow 
particle din where
planet revised spins
and gravity shifts
orbits of mood when
inside and outside
last path pi radius
resolved back
to front, night to day, --
my umber scent
lost shimmering face
where I, Delft girl
with half opened mouth
becomes icon of Joss,
painted by Vermeer
as cartoon for last doll
of time, I race forward,
reversed. Netherlands,
white river, dries
in obsolete sky
Led home we cavort
as Penelope dash Molly
and my favorite niece Joyce
came with the excitement
on my subtle parched lips
while Jason my twin
my brother later consumed
by tempest forlorn
became in match
scrum as time
had not mass
in sun’s last-last red
sky reflects Turner's 
oceanic stare with
stamen azure-white
and pollen black-
blue blankets disguised
the violence of my waves.

Yes, I, Terra, slowsslowsslow
with bangbang of mountain
runran, I breathe until I fold --

Make love, my command,
more than unmerited fire
I am held in embrace
and sex is my universe
of bare panty lace, I bloom
incandescent, I am the illusion
of light, once I lived sixteen billion
years in space without mass
smaller than the atom of quark
set to wreck on perfect lakes.

 

ZERO NAUGHT ZERO

I am Joss as mother
your father and child --
I am Joss, motherfucker
do me right so
I will come again.

Please time speak.
You are relative
freak and I cannot