Mercurial Cancer

The upward spiral to a rhetorical question becomes DNA, its pressure spikes our interior, pooling blood fills our eyes still gazing out across the flatlined horizon sienna clouds are visible now float behind chartreuse moon, riddled with cogitation, its dreams pivotal dark, I scour indigent sky trying to fill the void of deaths continuum. Multidimensional plateaus concusss and rattle, pitched veins explode, screaming, intertwined with ruptured organs throbbing bone pushing against the swell of natural formaldehyde, naked lymphocyte imploded strains of cytotoxic assasins, Trypan blue sings our demise the protocal for vital staining failed in the light of an imagined sun, dreaming as the trickle of poison gestates longing, a suspension of life, an illusion of detection, sorrow's conclusion runs, tears cannot escape from eyes so dry, sight a mutation, a visual memory unhinged and declined as to fade completely. In the petals of pressed sunflowers, the weight of the cadaver speaks yellow as the rooks peck out its eyes. We take flight in spite of attempts at extermination, burn through charcoal shadows, interrupt the exterior world of phenomenal reality. The climate of chaos serves the steel fish well, the churn of its concrete irrationality provides an environment of perfect austerity, thot becomes an inexorable stone with which to grind away the tyranny of the object. Authenticity, the serpentine embrace of the eternal now, seethes with undulations of potency- we rise like tantrums of cloud, in the epidemic of the hour, irrepressible, ebullient, alive.

i am i am not

i peel open another bottle of questionable complexity peel back the jagged lable of my rage and tear at its blistering trademarked humanity i'm coming down off the eternal cunt-zero wimpering plasma still unplugged and cleanhanded i am the praxis the hustle the prodigy the myopia of centuries hurled into the protocol of covention the hallucination the manipulation the expectation i am the prototype disgorged by gaping harpy that swallows anima and feeds its afterbirth to vultures and cons who disassemble rape drifting to abyss my termination will conceed my subtefuge i'll go spent into the eternal consequence packing explosives spewing rank immaculates while screaming for conceptual silence making unreasonable demands of infinity there is no real purpose so i bide my time in the repression drinking circles of geometry tipped on the verge of resolve

Little Deaths

I ease beneath the shroud of placid waters, slip quietly into the diminishing non. Infinity stutters, coded time interrupts another cycle of my lucid dreaming.

Once familiar voices fade to indistinct-they are now shadow intervals of rolling pitch, a drone of recycled memories juxtaposed with death.

Incandescent passions wield a heavy discourse, burning synapse exposes my weary flesh and an apocalypse of tender mercies.

The burden shifts to unbecoming-acerbic truths unveil bitter secrets, jagged scars- and cruel vicissitudes. Disfigured trust annihilates the future, kindness becomes an impossible stone, misery bleeds-to-fusion the esoteric reach of something incomprehensible-profound.

The clotted blood of enterprise strips faith bare, sorrow offers me its kill- the stillborn abstract of the soul splits the condemned in extremis twisting from its fetid womb-a lifeless dream stolen from a dying child.

Narcotic Sweats The Injected Machinic Appliance /Justin Lee Brown & Lee Kwo/ PostCards From The Frontlines

Noises are alive with hyper vigilance their discrete movements toward silence signaling the vibrant decay of becoming and eluding the melting ear /detouring the divine illusion of the death circumspect without suspicion/an unexpected absence of affliction marks time/ We confide in each other spinning into a virtual density of delirium / So many resonances / We cross flexed sound of desperation as one would pass invisible through ancient vaulted burial grounds/ Poised for demolition pre-destined to preserve our faltering decay this interval in our temporary salvation of being in life without the definite trace of duration / willing to become another negation of the aesthetic at the end if you choose/circumventing rigid lucidity of purpose we institute a new order of thought / no mystery between the validity of being and nothing / just an interval of frictional ravitude and the fact that I cannot fall asleep with yr scratching the sky in my eyes / Enigma becomes intimate invasive forbidden impediment to impulse of weapon/Who is the most submissive slave?/ the bullet or the gun?/ coded desire murmuring insomnia / grunting male drone jams teknoid wound into psycho sexual circuit / An excess of imagination opens fire with DogMan guns across scorched deserts of Arizona/ you did not know me then my desire to die growing weary too soon/ The unrecognized conclusion of indifference sears the perversely crooked path of births expulsion to the prohibited icon of the Law/ We are not delimited but fragmented/ Here on the Front Line with bodybags as if this moment might reverse itself in the end and become a resurrection/ Time is an atrocity when left to its own device/ We know better by ceasing to acknowledge fuking as a strategy in search of agreement with the invasive protocols of the coupling devices /What abortion might be expelled? / A pure fantasy of the fleshless as in dying does not last nor does it end perhaps/ Divine ignorance spit's the filth of track marks across a tattoo of self mutilation/ Dead navigators at command post stare eyeless at ice cold stars of acid inhalation/ We void darkness pissing the psycho-tropic drugs into the fetid atmosphere of Zuk elemental dementia/ Stretching in to dreams and folding back into the darkness of The Work quietly mourning over lost digital patterns wasted/ Burn out the hard drives short term memory/ Groinal modes of clitoral hyper-activity fade into the virtual Ghetto Dogs predatory nervous system/ We barely leave a footprint so fast We flow across the abyss of collapsing meaning / the dangerous symbol of the Law offers vulgarity and acts unhoped for/ The temptation to name the hated/ She burn with the pleasure of the texture of scared flesh / it flows thru her like time of the NOW/ pushes beyond membrane of imagined non-reality of carnal intentions/ exchanges between us surpass the dialect of what instead flows into non-coded images burning with chroma fluid of neural rush / in depths of streams saturations realized we attain eternal truths as we exceed the surplus that the mind annihilates/ drop by extended drop dying falls on parched lips with its perverse thirst /noise too strident to allow itself to be heard / The madman alone is able to designate what he conceives as paradoxical within the excess of insanity/ to be released from life is to perfect oneself as marginal existing on the thresh hold of the liminal/ not noticed not impinged upon by the terror of those striving to deprive death of meaning / which is escape as failure to confront that we are not living but strategically dying/ We expose death in a panic we bury it/in haste/ We hear that it is forbidden to die from those who live with the invisibility of death/ The marginal live for the time of death with every heartbeat/ Where would we be without you death?/ Living hastens death/ We are listening for you/The acephalic man and his collective pain is unbearable to discern save for the clack of the keyboard exploding with requisite potions/a vision of unintended history undeniable and crystalline/ We are watching/This world is a bleeding wound full with uncertainty and illusion/ Puerile and terrible / The façade of complicity once removed expectorates incoherent noise of decomposition/ as limbs rot from stumps and gangrene blackens the innocent flesh of the naive innocent masses / In death we search for the absence of movement while undergoing the explosive immensity of time as it shuts down the somnolent erection of the Phallic XX/ The skeleton fatigued leaving bone unable to support its crown we willingly decapitate ourselves out of spite / but we will not acquiesce and give control to that which sucks perversely and uninvited at our sublime substance / The gaping sewer of its mouth teeth and tongue rapt strange complicity with the flow of shit / Must forget to swallow the pain of others / the decorticated virgin pukes up a history of dammed horror/ foul defeat precludes your suppurating lips but will not silence ours / Are you uneasy with the infinite?/ its unlimited restlessness ?/ The blood and other secretions of the Midwife of history/ Eroticism is the substitution of interval of the unknown pleasure within violence / We have the audacity to imagine that death will not be a failure/ She has a conclusion in mind and many demands that she deserves/ This is the sharpness of the blade that ensures a morality of decline / fragments coded in a darkness which marks foreign domination of a superior intellect/ The suicide of defiance / we stand face to face with illuminated intervention over this right to our dying/We can only resonate with the devouring of the image / but we can affirm nothing of its possible illusions / of what happens when we look into its depths of infinite changing / from glance to glance into impossibilities of becoming more or perhaps excess/its personal and linked to some undetermined object of desire to express the interior monologue of its creator/These are the effects of invisibility / Who are they if not this terminable question which reeks of the smell of fear on our breath/ Lightening in congested sky punctured the ript clouds of divine thought/ The sound transcends what it isnt /but not what it might become/ given time and patience/We become a witness without testimony/that of a dead thing making a detour towards the cold vicious comment as in :"pardon me I did not recognize you after so many years/ what happened to yr flesh? "/ What lies in the shallows of the pool and clasps at my ankles ?/ Still waters run deeper than the torment we exercise ourselves into believing the contrary/Steel fish in ravenous time/ Listen/In the silence something was speaking/ Calling our names lips suspended from the night do not speak instead signifying fear something of the father that arose in the dread of the night/ The FrontLine is for the ferocious and calls on the sacrifice of something of the self perhaps the selves/Loss is impossible when life extinguishes itself in unselfish becoming.

THE VANISHING

The atmosphere insinuates an element of panic
abstractions of time extinguish my most primitive
desires making me a poison to myself

opalescent mirror reflects a pandemonium of aquaintences
moist evidence of a once textural interface, proof
that's survived the squandering of the elemental fire

a queer vehemence replaces erotic animation
the sweet trechery of the sexual, illusive in its vanity
relinquishes me from impulse, its arsenal
having finally exhausted my frenetic designs

rapture has become an outbreak of terminal pain
my sentiment, repulsion, an antipathy of self
abducent tears rize towards a lascerated sky

peculiar sensations speak remembrances
damask rose euphoria once cherished in its infancy
too soon becomes garish and unkind

imperious youth knows not the connection
between the now and then of the deep,
sepulchral tones that await them, of the
emptiness of a picturesque monsoon
or the howl of the jackal when it crys.

Enola Gay and Little Boy

Atomic child crys mimetic hunger
docile, fluted bodies cringe beneath a pestilent assault
low altitude gesticulate's spew of crimson flesh
ensanguined multitudes writhe
burn, a menageri of gristled bone
twisted steel and tatami mushroom fly
"I have killed a man before you!"
say bastard apostles, lethal men of god
the hounds of war drink deep
from perpetual drift, they calculate deficiency
as they cut the cards between them
to the virtues of the beast
go the spoils of the child
Man, a species
of ethical relativity and linear social constructs
pass executive orders
North by Northwest
festooned with Cardinal rage
lascerated indigo intentions
their reprehensible star explodes to emptiness
cerulean bamboo and saphire skys
paint genetic mosaics, blind
screaming yellow against the firestorm of power
on the surface emotional
gene pool festering
dreams of Joman stone
cut ancient figures against silken desire
blinding light, burning shadows onto walls of terror
plutonium bird carries hybrid morality
beyond the spill of inconsolable tears
a people drowned in misery
bathe their dead in reservoir's of acid
a caustic irrogation of limitless ire.

Fuck Me

Come fuck me all you power-brokers

with your fist full of money and your strangulating desire,

fuck me with all of your violence and filthy success,

cum across the horizon of my ingenuity

smear my swolen, bloodied lips with your own

press me into your service with your flattery and provocative bouquet

flip me into your pandemic bed

then roll me between your superlative thighs

taste me until I'm destroyed

whisper to me your exponential strategy

while you sodomize my dream

split me into pieces, not one, but two, now three

fold me over into your bending time

and let me suck pathetically at what little sweetness you might have there

fill me with your escalation, your reticulation

your display of meaningless effects

spread me out and empty me of all substance

become my instrument of desecration

until my cunt is dry.