desire for clear-sightedness

formless anxiety bends the mind in on itself like a concave mirror and in this concavity is disallowed the clarity desired to move through in a day, the clarity breathing through beautiful scenes when they are noted without reaching for camera phones, the breath of the landscape down your neck or is it the breeze with the salt and the ethnic food in the air, the dishwashing jobs available at the indian restaurant on the ave, the avenue, the splotched and spotted streets all straight and easy, a little too simple to get around, the “there are only three counties in this state I haven’t been” attitude along the border of canada and where Idaho meets in the south, south. Noticed a parisian cigarette box and now a gallery of French architecture exciting the walls, exhibitionist paintings of naked towers down by soft alcohol and using the contours of a smooth body as paintbrush and stroking, rolling around a canvas to imprint the romantic idealism we destroyed with our sloppy kisses and inappropriate public touching though the daunting architecture, naked, clear-sighted over the horizon and illuminating the foyer from afar, the desire for a naked architecture, of clarity when a landscape looms, of the ability to adequately keep oneself simultaneously distanced from the seat of and strapped to the electric chair of life and a consciousness of the self as it yawns and expands or shrinks and shrivels, spread wide across a sand scattered beach hut hit by boats propelled like missiles on a mighty wave, projectile ships with tall masts scattered along the mountaintops in a mysterious and ominous glow. where can clear sightedness form when all the signature buildings, metaphoric as a defining personality in the glowing heart of the city, have you been there before? in that state of calm execution, the motions seem more natural than breathing, the motions are fluid and deliberate, the second guessing is a voice erased like a ladybug met fate of an aphid or the roses protect themselves with new toxic plume. No, no. I haven’t been there before.

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