Vulture like Blackbirds

You know that you have become an integral middle of concealed yet sacred geometry when, rather than explaining by address or driving directions, you begin to tell your friends to just move toward the endless blackbirds circling above your cave. The birds are there day in and day out, gyrating, ascertaining uncertain floods in your pelvic floor, so why not invite your friends in by way of that fact? Blackbirds can whirl like vultures, obsessively enfolding a spot below them, keeping that spot forever in their stare. There are organic forms of portals and channels and those forms of organic are dark.

Because it is possible to bow to places that have not yet been reached, the work is to sense many different pressures as pleasurable. In my cave, where neural ducts spread like bramble, I engaged in a regular practice of making diodes and doilies. I worked to turn any first sun into subliminal (not secondary) strength. The dark birds remained above me like clockwork. Was I their most chthonic temptation? A cock-bearing clock tower, frothing as it turns its back on time?

J.J Hastain is the author of several cross-genre books including the trans-genre book Libertine Monk (Scrambler Press), Anti-memoir a Vigorous (Black Coffee Press/ Eight Ball Press) and The Xyr Trilogy: a Metaphysical Romance. J.J’s writing has most recently appeared in Caketrain, Trickhouse, The Collagist, Housefire, Bombay Gin, Aufgabe and Tarpaulin Sky. J.J has been a guest lecturer at Naropa University, University of Colorado and University of Denver.