Tuesday, November 3, 2020

Prophetic Funeral

 

by cathartic pressure by thin emotion or fixed rationality. by steps downward or swirling where wires are in our basement. an imaginary line upon which bodies rotate; sure raw sensation as to possess possession such creatures embedded dearly. to seek feelings or unbalanced nirvana as souls leaping into atmosphere. by idyllic sadness to create madness so soft as sullen into solvents. by epitome of its monster by wealth of abandonment while it’s meant to cause destruction. wrought from pain or established by miseries or sunken in illusional satisfaction. needing an antidote or listening to parables while we die over allegories. sung so sacred as assumed an absolute where passion pierced itself; by mirror into maze such sore sentient caves; so eminent, such emotional salary, as trying harder than meant possible. raw feelings as ushered into havoc where a man dropped at his pew. 

unshod behavior or rapid pistons where we wait at our doors. a man needing images or a soul vexed while we ponder come sundown: our batter for dejection our vinegar for sorrow or freshly baked ambitions. such revving excellence or boiling joys where soon we return to self—as hijacked creatures so far away from self as given such false dimensions.

a rasp to philosophy a peg unplugged adored for a rare ability.

sourness becomes affliction while insides are wildfire. some totem we exist some war we undergo while many will suffer the children. pain is leitmotiv, sorrow is redundant, it keeps repeating its indifference. our sacrifice our beings while we accuse others for mirrored behavior; to hold Sam accountable where Suzy is identical, as souls raging against impassivity.

thrust into causality or dependent upon consensus, while a man becomes anti-masks! semiautomatics or angered underachievers—to imagine a man censoring all another man has. by fresco dungeon or replaced convictions where we must identify all of the toddlers. such indecency or calibers aching where life may be insufferable—or better, a chase/challenge into some county by a scream where dreamers are ravished sickly.  

I’d Save The Reader Years

    The beat becomes sickness. A long crucible—a drilling ecstasy. I was losing focus, feeling forbidden, if to self, if to mirrors. So curs...