Jay Sizemore

Pariah Jay Sizemore

What is known The trees know nothing of gods, the trees are the gods exhaling life they pleasure the sky with effortless tongues. The pigeons cooing in the loft know nothing of martyrdom, flight is a language devoid of sacrifice, the pigeons are the gods. A grasshopper's mandibles work without prayer's necessity, worshiping the scent of green, color their eyes never register, the grasshopper is god. The river is a vein without a heartbeat, it knows nothing of birth or death, it knows nothing but flow, an absence of all senses lending itself to replenishment. The river is god. The sky knows nothing of stars, nothing of clouds, birds or moon. The sky knows nothing of rain, of breath, of blue. The Earth knows nothing of war, nothing of geese forming their migrational V. The Earth knows nothing of man scribbling their worships onto cave walls. Dirty fingerprints left on a bone. The universe knows nothing of Earth, nothing of Fibonacci, nothing of the whale, as a woman knows nothing of the life she bleeds onto the bedsheet.