latest poem in reflection of 1995

I propose we listen
and not lie, hearing
feathery logic simply undone, lingering
between each morbid sigh.
I know what it is to caste the lowest die, ignored
for ignoble lattitudes, impertinent
energy from eltist idioms.
Impressed I am
into confined crystaline stature;
burned to ashes my pitiful sum.
and then blood sprays bright red
turbidly with new found
turgid fingers, full of life
and handfuls of joy,
bursting, releasing
from my old scuttled hulls,
screaming through shackled stature of
personally impaled statues;
ignored for a clutching century of
personally held breath, gasping
for new gathered life, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.