Seeing Red

His countenance suggested
-      - - suggested
a clear preference for the swirl, the geometric beauties,
       (I was paid fifty cents for each one I found in the sand),
and then fell apart, as usual, in the explanation,
-      - - too much (I thought) of something, he’s got too much
for instance,
when is a bloody hand only a bloody hand I ask,
and he recommends to me, he tangentiates towards
a woven ‘pain and satisfaction’ picture with no red at all,
no ready embers, no bright crimson fledgling, Toro Toro,
       (I was told to look harder),
it’s right there on the keyboard, touching through the ‘e’
through the vowel, a vowel that opens your moth and pulls your lips back hard
eeeeeeeeeeeee eeee.
He touches it many times in his walking, sees and does not see,
eats it without tasting what it is he should remember, which is always red.