...without nothing

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1. ..everything was out, out-there laying on all sides, laying front & back, the thoughts were cast out, nothing more to conceal, bleached-out.
2. …knotted & breathing, the thoughts were pulsed away, no they were wasted away, yes they were wasted & washed-out, winded.
3. …like they were there to be considered (not in whole) from a distance, incredulous as they are, mimicking an interiority, given back.
4. …reverberating gray words (in the 1/2-light of confusion, in the 1/2-life of expression), promise to be sustained like they were.
5. …& the small phrases gathered here by my feet (& underfoot) held there. Once ensnared a few will give up & freeze the moment (like now).
6. a precious sieve cancelling as it retrieves (hoarding silence). The screen inspected for a resemblance to what “should be” (what can be).
7. …in-&-out of me the gray thought was exposed & hidden, remembered & forgotten. Yes just that, moving forth, a filter, a precious sieve.
8. ..& as it (the thought) dried there I stopped to pick through it, thinking of its pattern while knowing it’ll be gone soon–a captured loss.  
9. …given-up, parceled & punctuated with my ego then thrown away to join the public, the imagined narrative escapes emotion & the words.
10. …foisted from me into a breathless (overwrought) phrase loaded with failure (emphatically recondite). There it was, over there…  
11. …configured into a useful shape, twisted from a tangle of imitation, foisted on the screen & hung to dry there, to transform there.
12. ..& these churlish thoughts (drawn like wire) quickly unfurl & unspool (not as dreadful as they once were). I’m left to configure them…
13. …as I said, underneath the day, swept by the thought (whispered to myself) to bring me to what can’t be said (the ineffable constraint).
14. …those words, the gray words over there (out-of-me) dispensed of, waiting for reflection, neat in their uncertainty, near to their pain.  
15. …only slightly warmed by the (presumed) eventual (left to strategize & gather) sitting in a box, a vitrine, stuffed & rare.
16. …the triviality that consumes a disregard & assumes its place as a sentence (maybe quoted or said again) simply repeated. Ragged & used.  
17. …used-up, resuscitated, brought back before us, along with this febrile insistence, these empty letters, this hollow phrase.
18. …& yet the 2nd look is there to reflect & to look-back-on what has been overlooked. Yes, it’s there in that thought, where we’ve been.
19. …a phrase inflated with itself, understood as itself, so tiny & mundane as to be extinct within a second (& without a 2nd look).
20. the bondage is here (right-now), look at it, hold it up to the light, regard it as your own. A new triviality under the day, under scrutiny.
21. …& the little words (cloaked with an info-banality) only hint at a luxuriant suffering (our misused master). This bondage is here.
22. …the gray returns. The return of the unknowable, the haze of insouciance (pinned to my thoughts) displayed before you.
23. underneath (inside) the innocuous concision, the feeling wondered, lost till the feeling surged (un-erasable & un-thought-out). Gone again.
24. go ahead dry thoughts, into those little paragraphs, shove yourself along (anxious for warmth) into an understanding, a real pertinence.
25. …yes a small epiphany, down there, pushed away, undusted (wanting to go backwards, wanting to retreat)…& the little words slip away.
26. …into that chasm of WHAT? Thought into that chasm of what? An isolated project of inquiry, speculation (only slightly epiphanic).
27. …go ahead dry thought, into what you’ll risk a phrase or two for, into what you’ll never hold-on-to, into that which was promised.  
28. …yes, behind the present, pressured to be redacted, then to be enveloped, eaten, absorbed (given a pass). Go ahead dry thought…
29. …out-of-time to place the thought on a shelf, to gather dust, a dust to transform it into an antiquity, never new, but behind the present.  
30. …what with a minor touch, the little words escape, gone & turned gray, the subtle whisper of myself, my self-song, endlessly out-of-time.  
31. …gone from my lips & into my words, the chaos of agony left my fingers onto the screen (rejected, then revived) then pushed away, again.
32. …never voided (avoided), the spectacular array of repression, propelled away, distilled into the everyday, the anodyne.  
33. overwhelmed marginalia kicked & shoved the old emotions (those rejected past-times), but not gone, never voided. Threatening effulgence.  
34. laid down, brought down, nothing to pin-point, scattered, left-out. Remaining in the thought, the words have left me. Banalities overwhelm.  
35. …these little letters that promise to bring me what? …a new need, more desire, another rule, additional strictures?
36. …public/private, right here, displayed & frozen/melting in my words (these little letters).

Aurelio Madrid

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