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This world is an insular, elemental madness
The purest tincture of an insane pattern
Something invented in a form so pixelized that it flows both outwards and inwards,
An unalterable synchronicity
An electric braille, collapsing and blistering in a unison exchange
A convexing concavity
An innumerable number of appliances whirring
Mechanical animal - inbred half-breed
Left with a certain fixation, sedation
of what was once ash and ember, now made unwholesome, in some one else’s mouth

And at how we are eaten...

Eyes crazed gently by some extrinsic ideal of symmetry
grafted on closer to the stem
A programmed polarity of our opposed thumbnail nature
An ice-nine implant, brought to the chill of fruition
So that all the trees systematically salute their intermittent and, yet, sequential
grace
in a forcibly linear display.

The ultimate vacuum of both and not, yet, neither.
The plaguey drone of the insect hymns in the Grand Canyon.
The ripple-echo of the city crazies
traipsing up the town
screaming out the names of things that have yet to be invented
as if they were drunk and wild obscenities
A maddening Adam

The lightning above the Mississippi
Midnight, rain steeped, old children dance on stone ramparts
leaving memoirs of acid and sin and
the way it laces the eyes and kisses the water’s shifting skin
And, in short
it reflected a pattern
Of not-fear, of nothing, but the movement that compels it
seamlessly, seemingly senselessly, onwards.