6 hours ago
A Kind of Sense
It begins with pulse.
A universe then me
syncopated as one
orientation, a heart.
From this crown
of separation
sycophantic aliens
bumrush the stage
in full endeavor
suits, tallying what
identity leaks from
the narrow, fair rim.
This must be how god-
esses feel, quotes the
Journalist-turned critic:
Sample poem, canon,
video-essay, find the hook-
beat and riff it.
Even from the grave,
ancestors roost.
Could be the same
dallying in the garden,
or soma-constipated seer
squatting by the cracks
and stains, light inkling
between loins and brain.
Horned serpent wings,
the whole nine heavens
imprinted on that grooving
column. Plump! in the woods. . . .
That's enough for now.
Putting the pad down;
he woke up tired . . .
went to bed tired,
had a dream tired.
It's not happiness
I want, nor even fame.
The beat is rubbing
us out, gonzo-style.
It begins with pulse.
A universe then me
syncopated as one
orientation, a heart.
From this crown
of separation
sycophantic aliens
bumrush the stage
in full endeavor
suits, tallying what
identity leaks from
the narrow, fair rim.
This must be how god-
esses feel, quotes the
Journalist-turned critic:
Sample poem, canon,
video-essay, find the hook-
beat and riff it.
Even from the grave,
ancestors roost.
Could be the same
dallying in the garden,
or soma-constipated seer
squatting by the cracks
and stains, light inkling
between loins and brain.
Horned serpent wings,
the whole nine heavens
imprinted on that grooving
column. Plump! in the woods. . . .
That's enough for now.
Putting the pad down;
he woke up tired . . .
went to bed tired,
had a dream tired.
It's not happiness
I want, nor even fame.
The beat is rubbing
us out, gonzo-style.
In cases where the visitors speak with witnesses, they frequently make claims about themselves, their technologies, and their intentions that are obviously absurd, or self contradicting.