Arcane Carnal Knowledge

What is Wonder? Humility. The word that brings one closer to the lowly and the earthen, that makes us into a small humus secreted by the globe’s moist and pungent genitals, overwhelmed by the mass of our own bacterial overpopulation and the grand rashes of natural extravagance. I think this is my place. Perhaps this is why I feel comfortable being a “poet”, one of the most invisible and repugnant races. I am most honest as one smear of the world’s smegma, prey and beholden to even the smallest, microbe encrusted piece of sand in the toenail of the breathing corpse of Greater Being. One of the dangers of being a reverent humus is the withdrawal of one’s humanity. I feel like a terrible citizen. Or does this have something to do with reflexive impotence? What does it mean to be a selfish selfless (as in attempted ego-denying)corpse? A fragmented, excavated, historical being without an index. Without a table of contents.