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November 19, 2019 / barton smock

person Benjamin Biesek, one poem

ISACOUSTIC*

Benjamin Biesek workshopped with the poet Christopher Soto in 2018 and resides in coastal California.

*

My Sense of Self Floods the System

Hushed in the rift, the fountainhead of the codices
Obliterated; & generation is kept sideways as if dreamt.
As if imagination could ever manifest daylight, remnants
Of blight linger in complicated days, coma of
Those who asphyxiate: who await time between summers,
Muted chaos, all their violence. The intricate practices & means;
The edges of days, the tumult & unsighted faith in our registers,
Our automobiles, those who tell life wise & sideways
Glances approve-of. In the source ciphers,
In relics caged, some alternative way, try confidence
& Blind yourself with avarice, this day.

My sense of self deluges the system. I consider it,
The barren page or the child who swam away,
To surface the Moon, paint it brilliant in hue,
Enough of this masquerade, this…

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