to nothing certain


Focused inward
on a pinnacle of beast
upside down in the moonlight.
Toward, but not away from dawn it howls
across the soil they speede
A neurasthenic thump thump from the drum and the wolf…
in the death agony interval
out you, you dark loners
a moribund millipede in extremis,

As the sun sets

Come out, El, Eloah, Elohai
grimacing dark laugh the Enchantress’ lit
under the hanging boiled Jason’s tail
Osii, Osia, Osii
dive out of
painted – with serpents –
with painted
with acrobata wonderfully grasshopper
balanced upon the pit of unmentionable

Back from the chill abysses home to the old home
full of sweetness
Before my mirror, in silken mists
down my flanks, awaiting in the insane circles
the more than somber a terrifying monster
and masked one, hovering
the taiga of tartaria
looming antipodal Macropodidae
the downward roo when panting with that nimbus
of hellish flames, vicious, reversed
alas,
there
end

Ten courts of hell
ten Yama kings
in a pool of filthy blood
brooding over bestia in the flare of fire
is it but reddish drawn aqueous shades
grotesquely unseen, unlamented
a red bright in the horror tilted dark,

The effortful attack of the apparition, either bored
or mad, softly, vast beast…
the effortful scorched pale virginal you
upon the red roses opened unmysteries
Queer is. Sheer it is. Defiant Damocles
belted with the vast shadow’s sword
vexed with sardonic stare prick
of black ink somnambulist soundless scream
supplies me with flambeaux whisper:

“I’m lonely. I’m lonely. I am so lonely. Lonely am I”
gone is a dreadful deed that looks like grave and
sounds like bird
sounds like the growls of lions in their wrath
sounds like…
cageless flowers behind the doomed shores
of Circe’s realm with killing smile

stinging

the oblong virtue to the beast’s visage
in the dead of the night
or knives and daggers on revolving feet
the heavenless hell honeycake to departure
I mutter, I haunt, I persecute, I knit,
the gasping chaos
taught by cool flutes lingering grace
I moan, I harp, I pipe away
And rise into ether, gather in mist
enraptured flowers, stitch the ear in a short wicked candle
Tear from the fabric the threads of incorruptible”

Immortal creature secluded in the night
forever cursed, lost with their pre-world loneliness

Left to whisper:
lonely lonely through a circle
left to weep for a cups of death
in much statically angry madness
left to strong one-pierced silence
through moaned space
time reaps death’s blade sleep
with poor cuss

left to dwell in the infamy of despair
as in the sharp blood,
o hideous night, bold in advancing
Fragile splendor intense
to the blast of a frightful scream upon awful lips

A sense of mystery untouched
by the dripping hand
dabbled with blood, the phantom smiles bloodily
and stains toes to heels, bless you, freedom
We rise to give

to nothing certain

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