…such
a raven massacre, such hunger and detriment, reminded of such poverty; those
curious filters, found in a small fortune, while hares are pouting over The
Great Tragedy; our technology our humans, our loneliness unseen, our devices
our companions; so threatened by intimacy, so maladaptive, texting God; our
relived anguish, our computer funerals, our days sealed by inadequacy; to dread
existence, while living this light, as creatures sewn into sky-pains….
There
lived a vision, so confined in humans, even a synaptic galaxy—those fairer compartments,
this luxury in holy chain-mills, so frank and filthy and frantic; divine lunacy,
accounted for delirium, so perfected at something controversial; to need forever
in one person while slanted concerning seeing that, where massive arrests
trickle into clarity; so afraid of dying sin in such predicament while lusting
for something so reachable; our tragic curse, our rupturing force, while too
deadly and choosing this tamed illusion; at guts and bullet thoughts where Love
is angular or rectangles spatial so undelivered; aching blue black arteries and
cuffed intellectually while swimming in something lethal.
To whom
it concerns:
This powerful
warfare, too consistent it must be holy, if one commits to something so
delineated; such denotation, such rocket flights, to imagine so much ignoring
delusion; such a nameless game, but something comes to mind, and sudden an
energy invitation; this element in senselessness, where such has properties,
while the dilemma is stumbling into absolutes unknowingly; this circle with
seraphs this pain with agony if but to arrive at definite conclusions; this
traipse in curtains, this veil unrepentive, this pith and pleat and practice;
to imagine something killing me but too fulfilling to deny and too rich to exchange
something legal; our guts at remorse, our fear losing grounding, at a sheep
longing to become a goat; forsaken Jesus, forsaken Israel if but to come back
stronger; this biblic catastrophe those engines laughing so into Love and
ruined for God; or a holy negotiator, as opening holy doors, while never have I
lived—this field so full, those diamonds so fey-like, our screams muffled and giggling;
such torque and fire those bold seconds where a man loses all sanity; to think
Love an entrance, by incredible treason, where reality is napping; a glimpse so
redeemed, as living but sin, to swish a shot of demon; so accursed in us, so to
relying on mind-rise, while so chained to absolute power.
It takes to it these integral
elements, so baptized, so deluded, so captured—to adore something a feeling, to
live something alike a myth, so cursed and blessed at such tragic bliss; this
whisper or that energy or something we call to a Ghost; those eyes
beaming, this glitter raining, such sparkles a dead life; to need absorption,
to satiate a lioness, at cures laughing at ingredients; those lakes those grins
if but to die in something becoming immortal; something so old is something so
new where ours is enveloped and mailed to spirits; this leap and courage, this
vest and bone, while it hurts more than it used to; being honest and rapture’d
or so blessed it had to invert where angels are becoming envious; our cotton
and hibiscus our tyranny and kindness or something so destroyed it feels
natural; to live in this second, filled with fire, so alive a curse is sure to
renege; our mothers feeling God this love for a human while so involved lights
are erupting; at miracles so calmly at minds so intrusively while this agent
drills and erupts and calls ghosts.
