Morose, pangs stir my subtle breath, walking up the nerves,
To break down with laughter and see ocean’s rise
From the abysmal core of first being,
The naked home of belief,
Cradling Lover’s net
As a down-pressed skeleton, chained with ire
In the now of her furtive beauty
Ranging amid backyard animal ghosts and the spidery
cockroach
Filming suburban bathroom floors,
Knocking knees against the forested trunks’ sway,
And the neglected pyre steams into the eager morning
As breakfast is sold from Sunday’s river
To the imagined mirage, upheld with microscopic death
In the insect fire, breeding our collective imagination
Without guess in the end result of our programmed lives
Coldly moving from place to place
Like numbers spit into the viral joke of God
Seeing white rice burn to blackish brown on the needy plate
of the human universe
Believed so beautifully
In the back of a working man’s mind,
Stepping to the bold indecision of a wakeful conspiring
To stretch into the mundane order and belie chaos
With lingual rush and tug
From monetary order to homeless pride
Of the official & diplomatic
Political collectivism, yearning to be right and make a
difference
Through an uncaring sadness,
Across pyramids, tunneled to the foot of known reason
Yet, to be detached from an able body
Now roasting at the offering spit and waiting for mass death
To plummet from our towers, piercing heaven with a
sufferer’s torment
Across worlds, times and into the imagined memory of the
once-respected
Human insanity behind the art of the worldly races
