when you’re angry,
the sex is so much better

i have been frozen
cryogenics
stuck in place
time

in the depths
of yesterday
walking through
azalea and wisteria
hysteria
and the laughter of children
innocence

i remember the smell of blossoms
and fresh cut saint augustine
it was spring (once)

calling –
my son, come home

vague and distant
growing stronger,
moving closer
the voice of God
in the ears of a child

i once
was a son

moving
searching
listening close – ear to the ground
(i thought i heard footsteps
of my Father in the garden)
moving

again

at one instance
seeing a large concrete angel
as i sat back against an iron fence
in a cemetery
her eyes filled with mold and mildew
weathered and tired
sword aloft
ready to strike
i heard His footsteps
but looking
saw
nothing

until
one saint
climbed out of a fuselage
while another
hung himself in an office
with the string of a violin
(sweet music in heaven –
angels on harps
demons with drums
the musical voices of clouds and jungles
thunder and wind – adieux)

it is only
the mirage of my heart
frozen in this high plains desert of my life
cryogenics

- i have accepted the gospel
and begun to thaw-

to thaw frozen
to live dead
to see blindly
and hear nothing
but the joy of heaven
and the pounding thrust of hell
my own voice
lost
in the crowd
of my head
the voice of my voice
overlaid with the voice of my voice –
no footsteps
no singing
no whistling in the garden –
just voices

cracked and odd
fading against fading
hear no evil
see no evil
speak no evil
for evil is everywhere
in the dread of night
and the light of day
within and without
evil

all i want is a walk in the garden
all i want is to smell the sweet savor of flowers and grass
all i want
is to be unfrozen
to dismiss cryogenics
to return to time
and
transcend

but all i hear is voices

fasting
i eat
praying
i talk to myself
listening
i hear voices

asking
i get questions
telling
i get told
searching
i find nothing
but myself leaving the room as i enter
or myself coming in
as i
go out

cryogenics.