Ancient as time itself, syphilis-
with their leathered and blue faces.
Chancre psychosis contracted-
a fetus epidemic.
Muses of unconditionality.
Turning alchemy to the face of incorporation.
Evolving into level-headed table discussion-
of the crusade-conquests.
Still as transmuted;
still as benign.
Dance in a circle of triangles.
Cross the circle at the point of nadir.
Minerva is above, coughing up plague.
Invite me to the basement.
String me to a wall.
Soul quarter to the floor.
To the ceiling.















Comments
--
feudal systems were so simple.
minimalist.
there's nothing you can't do with gold now.
in fact.
we might both be way off.
black is back...
--
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman . . . for I walked down the sidestreets, under the trees with a headache- self-conscious- looking at the full moon.
Well I've always sought after simplicity...
okay that was a lie.
...Or maybe when smash mouth died in the 90s they took black with them? I feel like I haven't heard that saying in a while.
Either way, it certainly doesn't glitter. In my experience.
(But don't trust me I'm centuries behind)
--
who really knows.
we only know black and white...
the rest is a guess.
--
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman . . . for I walked down the sidestreets, under the trees with a headache- self-conscious- looking at the full moon.
--
--
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman . . . for I walked down the sidestreets, under the trees with a headache- self-conscious- looking at the full moon.
--
so suffice to say I like it, espeically the syphillis line.
--
I breathe Ether. (can't choke).
And there is only vividness, omnipotence and hyperreality.
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