Or the epic of dismal creatures and pasty days.
The sequestration and the slack water
In this sequestered nook we sit
Yet nothing’s sweet, it smacks of skit.
Here’s the dream and souls are thrilled
Extortion sneers, the time’s fulfilled.
The tide is pale and seems at rest
Hordes hoard up, begin the test.
Views of trickery appease the minds
No peace in sight, no pregnant replies.
Passion goes for the transient science
The need for warm and total reliance.
Meek violence. Myth calls on faith
It goes slow and lustful like a wraith.
Funfair is open; they greet and scour
Come hit and slay at a milder hour.
The bird is sick and spews at sea
The tide is silent and so shall be.
The quicksilver side.
Lost my way to Detroit
Bavaria wasn’t enjoyable either, was it?
Yeah, slipping and sliding
But that was long time ago… ago…
There were curves, kind, and steep slopes
Gotta warm up. So, they said.
Opprobrium, excoriation of the soul
Let me give you hints and run for president.
They introduced me to the wicked friend. They said he was unfriendly.
“Beware of the Enemy,” the sign read.
Not so much to test it out, but fear is their best comrade.
They lay the table in the innermost region of your mind
Serving up the richest food yet keeping the wine for themselves.
Moral subjugation is the pleasure of the perverted
Until, disinterred the youthful sight, the sword excises the cord.
Proselytes go on by their nostrils
Wax and whiff from bowels are the trail
Whose hounds are they anyway?
Minions and dogs bark and seethe.
They’ll chase you up, until their claws entrench in your inner self
The deeper the wound, the profounder their bliss.
The clandestine snake lifts, stiffed and perverse
Coriolanus comes, with wrath or craft. He’s going to get you.
Latch. Come here soon, turn up the key.
The advocate of torment imbibes from dawn to dusk.
For now, the milky dawn is sharpening knives
For the soldiers have to move.
Decadence plays a symphony of a certain retrospective style.
The Milky Way breathes and doesn’t know.
So, you might as well come across the very Enemy
In different shapes, and different tones.
Anything you watch, nothing you tell.
Glued to the robes of their old bloods.
There it comes the one who nobody denies yet almost nobody sees.
A real Thing.
It’s the undisputed lord, yet not dung.
Comfortably placed where the social ladder begins
It knows they will blink at its deeds.
Undertones under the undertow
Don’t overdo while overdrawing.
Then Timmy lingered for hours staring at a banana
“We’re similar,” he said, and said, and said again.
The wavy motion ripples her skirt
I love you Scottish dangerous baby
The smithies are working hard.
Who is going to tell me about the great old war?
Yet, was I going to tell about horror and terror?
The lovers of sovereignty, the adorers of the public altar, the ethically pure, the wankers of the constitutional praxis, the devotees of the petty-staid rights.
They’re cloaked up with creamy morals and principles that make their heads go up and down all the time
Their mouths are always wide opened.
“24/7 at your service,” it’s a strong keynote.
All 44 phonemes dance around the jubilant queen
“Milled,” she says, and the longa manu hits.
The dyslexic slaughter has just begun
No one wants to speak.
Her ghastly psalm rejoices, “All foes will face death and lie in hell before the night is through.”
Campbell and friends enter
Cast it all away
Lousy fingers squeeze the white stuff
Abattoir, this place is an abattoir!!
Sail on until the wakes of carnival can be seen
Solely tonight. And tomorrow may greet one more winner.
Don’t forget the binge is open although not free
Invaders are on their way home
Vagrants in shacks
What’s home, and what’s oust?
Inside hidden cellars are tangy wines
Submarines sink in the froth.
Ice around the monuments and the squares are desert islands.
Onyx, the blurred vision by moist eyes
None of these suckers will make you crawl
Who is going to impugn the status quo?
Shattering down clatters and crows
Dice don’t load and twice can’t fall.
Earthy flavors in mash of growl
Again, to be champs and duds
To start, to burn, to hike and crack
Hail! Exeunt omnes
The Leviathan is the faithful slave to the Beast
While the Beast sleeps upstairs, it sends for dogs to watch.
The Beast and the Thing
The Thing and the Beast
One time you perceive one, one time you perceive the other.
The Beast has no number. It is the Thing, and as such, the Thing is the Beast
You can’t see together what is one.
The One does not join. It is already in itself.
Then comes the day the Beast decides to redecorate the narrow prison we are all seized in.
Time for one of the factions to hail a new boss.
Veils sewn one on top of another, so that the Division may only generate indignation.
Consistently, the perpetual kidnapping is part of the game.
The most sophisticated creation of the social process that holds everyone to ransom
Yet, no price will ever fit.
Work to hold everything together, work to keep it going on.
See, see the Beast’s flesh gleaming at daybreak, glittering at evening
Its flesh is so tough to chew
Its phenomenology oozes with easy solutions
Anything you may have missed, It gives you a place to find your very nothing.
No prohibition. It only tinges with black
The universal prostitution lords it over.
The Thing says, “I gave you rights to cloak your sleep. I gave you values to vent your spleen.”
The land of plenty.
The world is bad, and you are inside
Toss the coin, it allows for one ride
You lift the stone, one face it shows
Keep running on this ground of rows
You can measure if you’re in
Skip the queue and slit within
Get away and get around
See what’s still safe and sound
Tell you how to stir the blend
Tell me how to move and bend
More gold to flow from the stair
Still one to go and it’ll all be bare
Spooky dawns this age have brimmed
The dream’s gone forever dimmed
What exists can be gauged
The canny dog is stray and aged…
The barn and the stage.
Batch catch hatch latch match
Watch and patch
The barn is rich
Still see no thing
Tough is the time for those who lack
Bough plough take a bow
The embers of knowledge burn and gush
Crackling and swarming in the dry darkness
This stage is cold and bold and does not fold
Have your exits, have your entrances
Yet that does not move the needle.
The lethal town
Stabbing knives, sharp and never tired
The stone of Sisyphus
Unity and terror
Union and love
Has not the past weighed too much?
Silly ambition, anguish seas
The eagle lies on a watery dream
Cramped spaces, drowsy sun
I have broken thy order to last…