perspectives in paradox

for Mercy Herrera

we are born, already inside eternity, groping headlong
into an uncharted future. there is no waiting
on tomorrow,
hoping yesterday will solve itself, embodies within it,
behind & beneath the words,

a certain kind of madness,
a tortured clarity looking for the subtle cracks
in society’s siren song of sparkle;

here, disappointment becomes a river
upon which everything is carried; it is given
a voice/: a high pitched screaming paranoia
balanced on the brink of sanity,
like the mechanical wink in a decapitated doll’s head.

integrated into this permutation of natural selection,
one that fuses grace with grit & passion with pathos,
worms the slow, erotic burn

of existential crisis, the key that opens nothing,
embodies within it
a certain kind of madness/: running with scissors,
stumbling towards perfecting an opposable thumb,
to shape a tool, to grasp a weapon, to hunt, or

kill for profit—a pornographic repetition
of hydraulic behavior, the material accumulation
that puts one at odds with longevity—

a slick & stylish hype without substance, a criminality,
whereby evolving humanity
learns to accept anything. was the first murder
an instantly regretted transgression, a premeditated
complicity with sin . . . or a complete surprise

/: the murdered, stripped of what distinguishes,
& the murderer, an impromptu riot of
subterfuge?

behind & beneath the words, a tainted clarity,
looking for the subtle cracks
in society’s siren song of sparkle, the accumulation of
days we wish to forget, becomes a
lunatic, feral screaming,

a child’s heave from nightmare,
harried from a cacophony of shadows, & awaiting
the other shoe to drop,

like paranoia
balanced on the brink of blind expectation.
from good to bad, to worse off
than ever before, we are born,
already inside eternity.

there is no waiting on tomorrow,
hoping yesterday
will solve itself.

henry 7. reneau, jr. writes words of conflagration to awaken the world ablaze, an inferno of free verse illuminated by his affinity for disobedience, like a discharged bullet that commits a felony every day, the spontaneous combustion that blazes from his heart, phoenix-fluxed red & gold, exploding through change is gonna come to implement the fire next time. He is the author of the poetry collection, freedomland blues (Transcendent Zero Press.) His work has also been nominated multiple times for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net.