break down your snow
flake ******* obsidian,
what did you lace my ****
with that forced me to join
the yakuza in service of
the rising sun?
what kind of anthropocentric
jehovas witness temple
taught you to count?
to envision the navel of
gravity? you say there is no
tectonic plate beneath us,
and yet we stand on the
trench of your lies.
today i caught myself not
thinking about you for longer than
one heart beat. i was fooled.
had been completely engrossed
in a conversation with a judge
inside my mind, you're standing
across from me and our apocalypse
is here! she asks
me what i mean, she
hates my people but loves
my pedigree. if she asked you
what you thought of me would
you do right by jesus christ?
what rogue elixir could ever tie
the tubes before your embryonic
lies come spewing out onto this
relentless carboniferous slice of
just like your guns,
you reckless bandit.
just like your sons,
a leech on the planet.
what sick mutiny caused
eyes to dictate righteousness?
if you have a brown iris you
are not invited into valhalla
until you have paid your dues
to the karmic protein memorabilia.
i never checked how long this
pie will take to thermoregulate.
strands for animals and strands
for fungi and braids for plants
and still not one article on
archaea. push your hands together,
listen to the hair grow from
your knuckles. push your minds together
and listen to the neurons coiling
around each other, preparing to
reshape the face of the earth.
across mountains of infamy
pompey oozed his way down
the port like chèvre, the
screeching miles behind him.
he wanted to be alexander
the great, just like all men in
his position. in 1999 everything
was blue, and before that grey,
and somewhere in between a few
communists painted themselves green
and now we have vesuvius.
now we have the arctic ice
sheets falling into the ocean,
now we have machines that
turn root vegetables to liquid.
alchemy was never one of
pompey's strong suits, and for
this caesar mocked him
outside every bodega in lower
manhattan. a fine servant of
pythagoras was he, and his
feminine ability of transmutation
unparalleled among his contemporaries.
build tributaries for gravity.
don't let this world, with its
smug disapproval of tesla & *****
demand a full fledged eclipse
of your hair, the arterial extension
of your crown chakra. many
avian predators will create
ripples in your hyperspace
continuum, remember the myth
of gravity at times like this.
vladimir lenin was able to
come to terms with his reptilian
heritage, right there in st. petersberg,
right there in burma, right there
in pontus, right there in zaire.
why would a maple leaf constricting
a tail light bring forth a civil war
in archaic rome or egypt? as pompey
felt the velcro snap from his
spine when the swords went in, he
cried the same words that caesar
would a few years later. he said
"i gave your father my finest figs &
cheeses & you betray a guest at your
own psytrance party?" the nile
flooded low that season, but across the
sea in sicily the lasagna piled high.
a horde of kale &western;
europeans longing to be gypsies, not
knowing their grand daddies
shoed us from the train station
at central square for the shape of our
noses. i like to imagine all these
blonde northface gypsy women
look in the mirror at the age of 8
&beg; God for plastic surgery, beg
Him to look normal, to
feel safe in the sugar cult
ure asphyxiation through her child's lips with so much hair on top
she's mortified she wants to make a
pact with God! but her grandfather
was enforcing national socialist curfew
on stolen earth in the winter of '43 &mine;
was in an execution line. if the german
troops tagged behind her beautiful blue
eyed smile &asked; which village she
hails from would she hashtag gypsy?
off to nowhere leads the brush
and cold against the sky
a freight train runs a midnight rush
and here are night, and i.
i thought in times before, i saw
footsteps behind my trail
but now it seems the minotaur
hung blackness on my sail.
the fates, they saw my cord and sighed
they loved me through one eye
but in their hollowed skulls they knew
the haste of my demise.
inspired by the lovely a.e. houseman
don't hide brown eyes between skirts,
hiking down your lace so nobody can see knee
caps. your arms are not a source of shame,
we don't all subscribe to patriarchy here.
reveal your intentions!
you can't bring something upon yourself
unless you were playing with flames in
the first place, nevermind be self aware of
the self sabotage of springing- the whisper
between the lines that you're still sprung.
and this is all hebrew to me but
if you're on the hunt for something i've claimed,
and he has no issue with being your prey,
then who should cook &eat; the game?
if you are smiling here, but hiding there,
how can i trust your prowl is pure?
after sniffing my **** &flirting; gently with the tree
aren't you going to ask yourself what
you want? did you smell yourself from long
ago? would you have asked a groom to buy you
a drink on your holy day, would you have asked
the groom if you could come stay with him one
night before his wedding, did you forget about sun
set &moonrise;? your makeup bag has your name
engraved in it so why is it so full of poison?
you know **** well i am delilah &i; will clear
cut this forest if you do not pick a tree.
i should show you compassion, but aren't you gonna
ask me what i want?