There is some subliminal melting
occurring as the broken record
reoccurs in my dream.
Every move in a heavy boot
tromps abound in elephant rhythm.
Surface is crackling,
your eggshell is breaking,
allow me the savage act of
A kindly vision of a dispensed voice
over the dispatched intercom… screams,
"Are You Satisfied?!"
In my head I whisper "no," just because
the government can hear
the inner thoughts of a loud mind.
If I tried so much as to burry
the delivery squad of my
to my lover over the distance.
He has a revolving door heart.
Math dehumanizes the Vatican
into an industrial trashcan.
Resurrect the concurrence
of my out-of-tune tabernacle.
For you have performed your
musical miracles for your best friend,
why should I be different?
You postponed your answer for me
until the snow melts completely.
As I wait,
I find a hidden staircase in the forrest.
The stairs leading up to nowhere.
I walk up them to look down.
I thought I'd find a distinctive
difference in altitude,
yet it is all the same to me.
Feet up or down,
I am naturally dreaming.
I decide to fall into genocide.
The pool of blood is sweet.
This is how a moth is created.
My anguish is entirely my own.
unilluminated by the half-angels or undead ghosts.
Maybe some tortured window glass
had prescribed to fate.
Personified by resonance of hate.
In this room, present day China,
was once a horror house of calamities.
Putride maladies, odd detrainments,
and segmented relationships.
If someone thought they had friends here,
there was never a chance to create a bond.