015: Sinews

Scarab cult.

Verbs veer out of reach.

Translation loss, transient.

This is forever

and forever is a sound no one can hear.

Unsight to see, electric

words to smash elemental bricks

(current divine).

It never leaves us.

Sublime subliminal stream.

Universal archive coded

in characters and stages,

in love frames and liquid purges.

Wood and iron, astral signs.

Corpsing templates

found in flamboyant carrion.

Pinhole trepanation,

viole(n)t physician recipe.

Horseback ride bell ring.

Are we avid readers of cookbooks,

do we know why our feet keep kissing the soil,

can we see the ant farmer?

Only when I'll slip in sleep

will the light take shape.

014: Tide

I cherish the thaw as an exercise in reconciliation,

as a melody of familiar footsteps from beyond the veil of Maya,

pillars of possibilities cemented against program pliers.

Bouts of crystal apocalypse conjoined quietly

with sips of shadow dissent.

The milk android lives in my marrow mansion,

shielding me in her cinnamon sarcophagus

and crooning fragrance of diving star electricity.

The seconds before dawn mire the rotation,

inverted telescoping decree, conquering Fergana.

Teeth sink into seabeds of secrecy where the line fades

out of sight, solids dissolve, hot conduits from ground zero.

Butcher's block corrosion swirling into cables of the supraterranean

can never withstand the scissors of angelic Orcus,

for I claim this day as my own.

013: Strangers make the best confessors

Pack warm clothes, for cold winds blow outside.

Whence does this burning lash come,

this canyon eroded in eons of overcast days?

The beast whips remorselessly with utmost love,

chaotic crimson latticework drawn in moist teguments

forms patterns of collapse dragging lead appendages;

truth floats on alcohol, just as ghostships master the Sargasso Sea,

northwards, westwards, mere futile occasions to raise frail bars,

to restrain an angelic weather wake

and erect cornerless cubes of conceptual composite

from the crystallized discharge of primeval volcanoes.

Stone upon stone, arranged in obsessive perfection,

resins of damnation to topple ingrown ziggurats

of millenarian guilt, the care of wolfen mothers displayed,

a riddle of roads that lead from the absolution peak.

The outback forgot long ago the warmer neighbors of null,

a lonely light flashing from the lime hut

of a propaganda poster painter.

012: Schiele's phalanges

Gazing at the back my hand I noticed

callus ergs and martian riverbeds,

a record of elusive fixtures

and driftwood surfing accidents,

from underneath, ink-dipped dendrites report

shards of reversed prescience.

I feel the hiding bones;

tension reflects, tactile errand redirects.

I forget my words yet asterisks still stick,

cenotaph signs pointing to cavern footnotes.

Between resilent brackets,

the surface still cloakes an imperfect geoid,

eggshells still remain statutory husks.

Erase the blackboard with the rusted nails

of your left hand;

rewind the hours, but the pendulum swings ever lower,

under the weight of perched night flyers.

Finger zigzags across the sternum,

scratching pits of battery acid drops,

where anticlimactic trilithons and silent towers

lead the way to the fountain.

011: Midas and Mausolos

Spiral towards crush depth

from the heavenly cage of no convection,

lulled by rusted cogs' soundtrack.

The echoes of stones I threw into the eyewalls

strayed on drumhead fossils,

deaf end streetlights spoke through blister apertures

and a glint waltzed in infrared,

tracing a gradient ascent on freezer rainslopes

from the caverns of tungsten stars.

Photosynthetic folk, I'd clear your molds with blades of shade

to reveal the shining amber beneath fallen leaves,

hidden in the asphalt of roads that lead below.

Monstrous reflection ingrained I wish to excise,

so grant me a beacon scalpel to collapse the wall

between foundations and utopian recipes of the dividing word.

I appropriate the inverted sea to sail upon

to timeless finisterres of combustion momentum

and heartblood blossoms no thieving hand can reach.

Beyond mountain shields and screaming air, one day

gravity will be but a memory.