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Reupholstered Concerns written by Sergio Hernandez and Verbalized by Various Others (feat. Amanda, Mauricio, Justo, Krista, Brad)

from East French Press: Poetry Power Hour by East French Press



Years of suffer stricken sounds
Think talk begs for blood
So we laugh our shouts in whispers
Burning ourselves brilliantly
Abashing ancient alphabets
Ancestrally abandoned
Time tired tongues
That touch of yours

Disconnect and Bury
Reignite and Destroy
Reveries go a glowing
Made my world shake
Taught my skin to stare and dream romantically angst ridden
Down the throat of life

Come clear reborn
Navels built nations
Gone clean revolt
Nations guilt navels

Years confused by sound
My army of veins that one day will surrender
Overtures of dirt arranged in connection
When motherly ventricles meet newborn capillaries in free speech lung gardens
Last thought tongues taste on and on
Dreaming underneath my bed
She moves thoughts of rebirth
Through my mattress of death

In my room is where I want to be
Plotting with Lenin and Trotsky while
Kerouac reads aloud and Burroughs types out our impending doom
I listen to Nietzsche and Camus kiss absurdity with their debates on god and then
Sartre and de Beauvoir share a kiss just before shades of blue
Drown out my existential dilemmas.

Between the action and the anger
Unreflective behavior
Defy and fail better
Casual pressure
Between the ego and the anger
Being and time
Fell-lurking went I
Desires repressed!
Casual pressure
Desires repressed by our censorship named desire!
Casual pressure
If thy accident will I just might remember
From one to the other
Action transforms anger
The appearance of disorder is nothing more than the freeing of our collective nervous energy

God ran over my bicycle in the driveway…on purpose.

Someday I’ll write myself into that eternal passion play and we can wrap her heart in our skin and pretend like one day we won’t have to die
These thoughts of rebirth loiter far beneath human conventions as yesterday’s disguise fades a comatose burnt blue blackened seven seas of ultimate destruction
If I die before I wake
Leave me be
For today is only a dream

Sometimes the sound of my voice makes the confusing part of me want to puke but laughter takes shape with death announced by radio and our predawn kisses taste unaware like Chicago snowstorm windowsill ashtrays so hush hush goes our politically pardoned smoke because that shit singing Jesus is an early voter sticker showoff god bullying cosmic fuck and my laughter took its funny form and when I tell you that I think you’re weird and that I’m crazy about you your eyes glow and grow diametrically and your fascinatingly dumb blonde hair blankets my love for you in your soon to come dark victory


from East French Press: Poetry Power Hour, released April 25, 2021




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