(i)
...for years you were simply there
as aware of the ground
as the ground was of you
but now there is metastatsis
the path through eternity's mirror
for you have become the poison
the celebrant who eats shadows
a soul dissolved by acronyms
you wisp, you worm
always digging for words
always needing to pull scraps of verse
out from below the ground
a portrait, a story, a life
that was simply there
filling your bones with ice
with the shadows of the earth
slowly exploding
slowly out of control
eternity spraying its poison
over the mirror...
(ii)
...has anyone ever truly touched
this one pulse, this one nerve
or truly heard the angels screaming
their savage thunder
this myelin world, this torrential world
sheathed in benedictions
biting our fingernails
gnawing at the eyes
these pathways, these cancers
these desperate cells
touching the one nerve
the one pulse that feeds immensity
and so I roam between the winds
drowning, singing, begging
has anyone truly ever existed
or am I alone in this disappearance
alone with these savage angels
orbiting my mind
the one nerve, the one pulse
as faint and far away as ever...
(iii)
...there he goes, the plasmid man, drunk again
rolling his head over the hills
shattering chromosomes, ribosomes
his arms engulfed by compulsive killers
blood-wolves, phagocytes
his feet bathed in serum
his mouth spiked with proteins
with helices for passion, for damnation
the ethics of the retrovirus
an invasion driven by ecstasy
by indistinct, celestial machines
that pair the bases of his drunken eyes and ears
with those endless, nameless threads
those final sagas
which might one day
burst with exotic killers
his breath, his hydrocarbon words
falling from the stars
raining down over the glowing hills
this passion for damnation...