Sat'day Writ

trying to write what happened before. using words that are black, cut into a page, so both can shape a plane into a what happened before. and what happened before was, well, curious - full with blackless anger and dead-blood: an unsheathed thrust that alloyed things: a night of motorized street; sound of trucks screaming loads; and riots on corners of Saturday drunks. and my mouth full of metal-speak; my spine a hard rod fused to the wheel. but how to write what happens before, when such a pure and unassuming page deflects such deceit? how to cut into what gives itself so here and so pure, so brightly and so givingly, with a what happened before, stained with what's happened since? into a page that's here and now-bright: how to cut and make it bleed a black of all-gone; a black of conjure; a black of heresy to the sanctity of this? how to cut this skin soft white; this here of purer than sleep, with a blacklist of word that whispers, This doesn't exist? well:- review this page