Occult clouds rhyme in my galactic mom
She spirals like a raptor in descent and
loss sugars the poison nest no longer mine
or I will be, which is to say I will
surface a plastic nexus
to sea change a sense
a sense tense
a never sense
when manic gusts
dissolve membranes
***
To stay alive
and totalitarian
I smite the children with real gusto
At the avenues of exult and wobble
my tottering fates despots and goddesses
***
Immaterialize
A scene pings
Legible gardens desire time
desert gardens, bones and teeth
Ardent sounds umbrella the gorge
Secret carcass sisters
rustle pages in a breeze
Always Rome time
to see your hands, ask what do I do
Eternal pulp perpetual grimoire
and you with your hand in the mouth
of the lion
You alias Ire
alias he-who-talks-too-much
alias Little Noise
or Junker
or God
it’s like…11:56pm…good night
3 thoughts on “it’s like…11:56pm…good night”
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Oh bog this leant against me like my beloved horse. That smell of hay and fur can a poem smell probably not but this holy smiting is fantastic. So happy to see you again darling.
This brought snorts of laughter while making me feel tender, especially:
To stay alive
and totalitarian
I smite the children with real gusto
At the avenues of exult and wobble
my tottering fates despots and goddesses
Smite those children, Ewok!!! Wow. So much here. Always love reading absolutely anything/everything you’ve written.