November 20th 2013, Video, Poetry ‘T6’

T6

This AM
I write for me
not for him her
sun moon
mother
father
infinite repressed
but now,
me
she
he,
warrior
monk
fool father
always
to be

Two-bit
illusion of infirmary
psychosis of sin,
original or
third-hand
discarded undainties exposed finally as the smell coming from the woodshed

This am I
write for me
not for bullies
banks
or movements building
all-weather friends
enamored and amused
abused
by my train-wreck obscurities

Trite notions,
if I
did not
I
– I would not be
grasping
for conspiracy,
for meaning
for calm and chaos
rooted
in the same breath,
breathe

This I am
write for me
for ancestry and progeny
for father land
mother sky
for crystals below
and above
me
– a conduit,
I see

The span of 40 years
behind,
before
me cycles
lines,
dimensions un-folding
in-
up-
on
themselves
I am this,
I write for me

Gregg Newsom
Detroit
11.20.2013 e.v.