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Mar 2020
inverse my talent
to let go and
be what i'm not.

transverse my axle
and you'll find
a kind of heaven
greasing the pole.

what speaks without words
always, a riddle
unto itself.

the tree of life
is laughing exaltations
in polarizing resplendence.

bright bones are
jubilantly marching
ever deeper into the
triumphant unknown.

we are woven with
mystery, riding waves
of inherited momentum
on a sea of uncertainty.

ex mysterium, ad mysterium

and don't forget about
the punchline -

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