erasing dry, burning green
\nrunning cold; will’s machine<\/p>\n
diagramma in locomotion
\nbound, each one to the other
\nmuted notation relocutes
\nas the breeze resumes abluster<\/p>\n
I can hear them talking to you with no reply. It has<\/em> been a long time.<\/p>\n terror on the high seas, lament afloat the low a grim and violent lust falls in a squall a grey and virid love furls itself solo here, now: the presiding psychotic feels an altogether other something very else prolonged, reluctant persistence a pulse something terrible, well underway his one blind spot and sole begotten oh
\nthe maritime mummy drowns all she sows
\ncolliding crests; calliope, calypso
\nwho is surfing this channel?<\/p>\n
\ndisembodied, quite entangled
\nthe deliriant deluge dissolves inviolate law<\/p>\n
\nthe serene fear dissolates in voracia
\nprepostasis surwhelms the undertow<\/p>\n
\nnocturnal exegesis in agrypniac deposition
\nsuppose agraphic functives follow
\nwhat, exactly, then?<\/p>\n
\nirides along his neck
\nthe unassuming debt
\ncomes to collect itself<\/p>\n
\nshredded rather asunder<\/p>\n
\ntrails the obliviant bereft<\/p>\n
\na windowless room, a lie in state
\nvirgin halls beget chaste corridors
\nlivid door to matte gate<\/p>\n
\na sound
\nwhat is that?<\/p>\n
\nwith nary an early tick
\nand the summit-settled preying poet
\nhasn’t seen anything yet<\/p>\n
\nknows what he cannot suspect
\nI read it all in a wordless book
\nand found only one way left<\/p>\n
\nnigh-late young death<\/a>
\nhold my breath
\nand watch<\/a><\/p>\n