november 2018

 

                                     (i)

...out there something was marred

the smiles, moons, headlines, even the ideologues

all have been frozen into a blur

and from the very moment I first opened my eyes

some inaccuracy was left hanging in the air

and I have felt, falling through my heart

an unending breath

an ancient, yellow dust

of worlds long since dead

of deities stalling this drive to exist

to be something, anything

that might stop the blurring

because something must have happened out there

something with a taste for darkness

a rendition, a slogan, a meme

some final madness that gleefully dislocated my soul

the drive to exist

not even a memory anymore

something out there is wrong

something falling through my heart...

 

 

 

                        (ii)

...and so what now

if I leap far enough out from the cliff

all that will remain is this incompatible freedom

of forever falling, of forever feeling miles

and miles above a sinister reality

an emptiness that glares back at me

with unrelenting vengeance

gravity the eater of light

the stranger at the end of things

the snake-charmer who once opened my legs

and encircled my ovaries with lust

then slowly pulled out

leaving millions and millions of galaxies at my disposal

and so I plummeted

 on and on accelerating into gravity’s nightmare

a mother to meaningless freedom

a father to meaningless vengeance

 standing at the cliff edge

watching reality collapse

and still too afraid to leap out...

 

 

 

                         (iii)

...no, my minotaur soul is not ready to die, not yet

still it rages for human flesh

still it cries for release

for any chance to push the universe back

into sacrificial madness

it is the unsettling caricature

the dark sentinel beside me

and no thread of love will ever find or bind

this impenetrable evil

this creature with the expedient mind

that is, it seems, not yet ready to die

and if a meteor once again

showers the earth with semen

my heart will, once again, vanish with pain

because every bull-creature of this world will stop

lift its head and listen intently

wondering if now it is their turn

to stamp upon the dead

to roar through the gates of hell

and push on to oblivion...