My creaky rocker, the folding of my fire
The tire in my fighter, a lie painted to hire
Making the waiting mistaken for patience
Breaking syntax to relapse the elements
Remember relevance? Standard forms of penance, masturbatory congratulations, lacking in purification
Sizzling silence breaking sweat over my poor timing, broken rye meningitis
I’ve tracked the laughs. They seem to be coming from my own devices. Hit the switch kid, a break is better than breaking
The rocky pavement
An imaginary mental persuasion
My waning complacence in
and out
The stony containment
An awful orientation
My misplaced intentions in
and out
The pebble rolled slower than the boulder
and slept even longer.
An enigmatic answer sold songs
as composure.
My broken ropes and silly notes
are nothing but
a bother.
I watched the water flowing backwards in the river
and out.
Maxillary mistletoe
The problem with
broken bones
Shavings from a stone pepper the floormat I weaved alone
as a kid.
Who could’ve known?
Who should’ve?
A new ring everyday,
tones fit for broken microphones.
Lone strolls into
Last night was
half wise,
half tied,
one sun over
two skies
The nature of our blindness astounded me
at first
then last
and finally
a word from our sponsers
Subtle bombs
flow wolf
to shook
Bindless books
know now
Ow
A waterfall can make or break a cliff face.
An architectual anomaly actually answers arithmetic accurately, although ancestors anxiously asked animals about addition.
The Condition
Rarely outlining lines
outside ordinary places
obtrusively,
an appalling apolgy.
Freedom from mirrors
pain and the feelers
change into a scouring
sour laughter.
Majestic in my demise
feeling of foe
a dull groan shows
my bloody mane.
I bathe in the river of filth.
My wounds shrivel
beneath my own
poison quills
and I soak.
flown wisdom
through the windows
of our rhythmic symptoms
banish mentality
of binary
intermissions
transmitting static
as composing as
a conscience
the destruction of the concept
of a concept
never no sense in nonsense
Rapture 