Placing

In my search for an answer in this,
Maybe.. for whether we may be, wrong
Second guesses about the weather, I failed to notice
Mailed notes of primary concerns on reverse rivers
Sent to me daily, didn’t prevent practically every other
Setter from placing cameras around the place we sat, to
Redeem our names, on our studies of upstreams,
Then remembered, how I’d always forget why,
When deviants didn’t last long enough to remind..

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Piercing

Stoically, they stood some distance apart,
Listening to ambiguities defining, when
Shoguns holding polished steel
Blowguns unto their lips, parted
Figures in configured opposition reeling
In bowstrings, their bow arms pointing
Up towards illusive illuminations flickering
In front of an ultramarine and indigo empyrean,
Brusquely pivoting shoulders, aiming
Their poisoned tipped arrows,
Their fantastical flaming darts,
In an instant in delirium, releasing
Unforgiving fates falling; untried lessons
Upon those they’d contritely descend.

At a Chance Of a Chance

Lamia’s hysteric immanence, massively maladaptive,
Viewed wanting’s desperation with memory’s veraciousness
Doubting to comprehend ignoramuses in the definitive
Noting the signs jammed into moment’s crevices.

Origins becoming, currencies in the evening; they
Then hinge onto this: “love is..”, when duty could just
Change meaning to be, those who have been far above
Encounters within a chance, at a chance to be, say,
Undertakings, conversely, not knowing what to trust.

Pandemic

And it was here, like, in this estate, that
He was, like, forced to induce a state
He hadn’t dreamt of, then drearily fell flat,
Ascending rocky hilltops (tensely) to determine valued
Helpings within coves, upholding worlds of the lewd.

So at the next order, where slewing waves
Wistfully lapped upon shores of charcoal sands,
Temerarious lads leapt into voids, cracked fissures,
(Not the nasty ones, not here, you might have figured)
Opting to choose mercurial nature, this time saved
Drastic modes of irrationality in the fucking grand.

Even better, this could have been god’s given fate,
Seemingly lasting a little bit less than most others.

Their Tails

Steadily transcended in an orbital,
Slowly descending from an aerial,
Chimeras whip their manes
Wrapping their tails around napes
Of moronic not so Monoceroses placing
Their newborns into locked jaws,
Their initial resolution for placating;
Heated breaths, swallowing tasteless vomit,
For the sake of their privilege
Where the senseless would go without punishment.

Victors determined, braying with plump reddening faces,
Lowering their clenched fists, reaching summits,
Servicing rewarded ignorances, a disservice, when
Imposing information in teaming dissonances
Were martyred in the name of “wisdom” because
The truth is sacrilegious.

But love nonetheless.

The Day Before They Hoped

Exactifying locations upon a low scene to
Refute how the others would deceivingly tiptoe,
Earnest chaps replied, “yeah–, ave maria”, while
Slouched on couches, capitalizing on hours to have
More than just a little contact from the last
In instances when terms were compiled, to eat in zones when
Edicts had not yet been edited to omit the word: coconut,
Still confused, as a donkey brays, taking it all in,
They wrote warping signs as they pulled out knowing,
Remaining seated, then praying motion would cease
Even just for an attested moment, approximating the emotive,
Literally, with placated words garnering bits
Lest they’d be rendered, exculpating them,
Ad infinitum, within this diminishing sentence.

They hope, They Hope

Chaps, aggrieved, cluelessly hope as though
Tarps containing perforations patterned like tripe,
Unturned innards, could somehow glean
Pouring crimson droplets in order to purify them, to sup
Exsanguinated libations in the moment they chose life.
Regrown infestations nullified in repressions in an ignorance
Sonorously sullying manifestations of lullabies
Podded in gross temporal devices through
Evident dividends where they reflected in indignation;
Colors seeping away within arm’s reach, then
Taken in as dreams they’d, like you, once
Ionically felt in wanting to be with their ewe,
Veering into unchartered worlds, as lovers do.

Once Upon a Fucking Time

Cars carelessly race slickly by,
Splashing up darkened puddles,
Lit, by tonnes of yellowed skeptics
And countless non-believers eyeing
Side walk corners on eroded greyish bricks,
While skipping inputting text into
Dozens of cellular phones for loves
On the receiving end, passing
Stuck shut shutters, as wanton
Rains continuously fell and bounced
Off the surfaces of umbrellas
And oiled rain boots, when
*Click* they approached lasered entrances,
Swaying, to and fro in the wind from
Puffs of storm clouds, not barely seen
Within chilling twilight madnesses.