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The line splitting genius and insanity
spins mathematical fractals between the
loosening branches of a poplar tree in
the hope that wasps and dragonflies will ensnare,
harvested for meat.  I lie beneath and
twist my glance until the sun stakes the web
with highlights, a constellation pinpointing Gods
in degrees of history.  
My face kites into the sky
watched by friends for a smirk or a grin
- depending on the winds-
while I marvel too, from my bed of dirt,
waiting for the spider to move again
Brandon Conway Oct 2019
Falling, falling, falling,
                                  forever
or is this
                                     G
                                   N
                                  I
                           ­     T
                              A
                          ­   O
                            L
                          F
towar­ds a shimmer in the distance
like a wind that carries a dead leaf
whispering through the chimes
that fall upon deaf ears
as if the message was sent
and it just wasn't heard

No, this is f
                     a
                       l
off                    l
    the                  i
precipice  ­           n
                               g

as I watch the sky
march round in a funeral procession
of our history

F L O A T I N G
in this disorienting gravity

S E D U C I N G
in this magnetic propinquity

T E A R I N G
in this psychosomatic schism

every storm proceeds an epoch
                                              of pleasure
as if pleasure
                    is an
Grecian artifact
                        in the backdrop of Ovid

The caterpillar
                       of Like
                       of Love
                       of Hate
cocoons into insouciant
                                      vicissitudes

            ­                           Y.
                                    A
                        ­         W                                
but refuses to fly A
Brandon Conway Jul 2019
Lip Dip Paint
One Two
Lip Dip Pain
Three Four
Lip Dip Pai
Five Six
Lip Dip Pa
Seven Eight
Lip Dip P
Nine Ten
Lip Di
Eleven Twelve

Necrosis of the teeth
the bone becomes brittle
limping with sore feet
the jaw shatters
sores line the throat
mouth only of gums
blood starts to flow
only holes left to tongue
red seeps out the mouth
doctors say this must be syphilis
Oh God, it hurts
to work for greed so villainous

Lip D
One Two
Lip
Three Four
Li
Five Six
L
Seven Eight

Nine Ten

Another girl in the ground again

Eleven Twelve

It's safe, don't you want to
radiate?
Brandon Conway Jul 2019
In the center gravity holds
tightly as we spiral
awaiting to enfold
ever pressed in cosmic vinyl
Brandon Conway Jul 2019
rain down corpuscles of light
into the salty ocean waves
bend for me and smite
the darkness of this drowning cave
where I am held by the cross section
of some fourth dimensional abnormality
maybe it is just my reflection
maybe it is just my reality
something I can't seem to picture
a Corpus Hypercubus sort of memory
tied down by mental strictures
left wondering in this somber reverie
Brandon Conway Jun 2019
It's been awhile myself
seems I only write
to look busy at work
I have forgotten how
to communicate
always looking for
le mot juste
to tell myself
it's okay.
Brandon Conway Jun 2019
outgrown the cradle
generation ships cruising
the stars are all ours
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