or, Satan Exulting Over Adam

the age it brags – it drags ascended as the low may go,
a mid may venture down ecstatic path, ascetic entered
into vicious route, contempted absolute – best as may
be tempted by a man within his right – his study for a
Christ denounced as orthodoxish pride, correct to the
illusion of a point he makes in spite, spit and speaking
loudly. so emerging from the depth – wet and carrying
the head of man who did baptise us, and yet: does still
surprise us by: this way he moves in. failing discourse
or, insemination – of a flim in false ideal, frail in forced
appeal to say – you’re better as a rookie may our Lord
ship show you mercy. it is confidence you say is earned;
soft of lip where you have turned from matter, all this
sullen waste. breath through which replacing me has
been (at best) severe, sincerely disheartening. growth
it does you well but feeling small is not of size; it tears
from something inside. you’re clothed in shoe of straw,
eschewed and raw from absence; yet nothing speaks
of turbulence as well as you supine.


St. Christopher ere the Cannoning

Here between the loud and lean, the bark and breaking –
Histophoric made engaging with a culture it cuts from,
Bleeds into – ritual praxis as turned to with a fervour
For the plead, the bleak position. Any number of ways
In which holding is also a step tow’r’d what hurts yet
I, in all pain, keep carrying. These are burdens from
Which harrowing yet deeply satisfactory impulse
Occurs – I look now to see how, in all forms, you
Deserve to be punished.
Holy compliance determines that provenance be of
A purpose in giving out Justice to Men – and something
In Christopher knows what it means to say when, to stop
Preaching. The word he means, it draws an accusation.
It is in simple acts of seeing that the key to disbelieving
Bridges far – mends all over – turns again to bones and
Under to bring forth an anxious cure, the straddle ailment;
Medication causing lumber sleeves and making me turn
Absolute to relative, generic to specifically attuned to
Heave & howl, the mere replacement. In seven steps
This operation is most crucial as it starts – and here
We are – transforming.

The N-Group Burial

This is like: my son’s body and I say it because a part of it begins with
Me too. In original seam, invisible thread of parting – fold from where
All started is the flood they warned would come, begins arriving;
Prophecy of harm inside me that feels different of its form, aware
That its condition travels (mostly) through this air: a void between us.
There is a code that must be followed in the efforts of creation;
I, alike all askew gods, prefer to stray from the norm.
As good in honest smile lies close, the weight of distance carries over;
These are features no other could father this well, bear in sporadic
Showing of its better as bane – at times tame – others barely.
Infant unprepared to face a burial in arms, deliver from this corner
An allotment of its burden – poor description of our placement –
Small account of how he’s suffered at the hands of all I’m saying.
So now they come to the graveyard and pray, ask for forgiveness or,
Punishment in wounded shapes – some bitter aspect of wrong in
Gape in respect to what has happened. I tell them: and the silence
Can’t offend them. This is the space to pretend I have answered
All their prayers.

Coathroat, Coatlicue

if this is my cue to resist, I will take it –
I emerge from bluest of said ice,
most textured of transparent –
and less out of pressure than want
the figure that I have resolved
to lay waste to takes shreds
and lost specks of life in you.
so that sombre in staring down knees,
the pulse of impatient that breathes
is also the measure I see I must
fit down to absolute size, absolve
from some punishment leading to
certain yet unjust reward.
as mother of sunburst and war
breeds comfort from holding down
awe to effective/disastrous result:
tumultuous, ending.
and drinking of pouring off palms
this liquid takes tangible form;
a fountain is left to provide for.
the origin turns on its source
delivers intentional harm and
what’s worse: supports it.
through punch and lick,
device and trick play scathing
wage, inflict of anything worth
having. until in swollen tongue
it speaks; the honour of this art
forbids all possible manner of slur,
the impediment means we prefer
to be silent. as from forced growth
we learn to cut throats; then
feel we deserve to repent.

Pastel Cub (dark variant)

Beige of leg, beige of scent
Beige of hack and temperament across his breaking chest,
An aching back – bewilderment – a basic urge ascending
Through a wall of thist and smoke, pretend and caring of
A mass event in stoke, extinct/exciting – who I am and what
Keeps hiding at a surface from white skin, black eyes, grey
Teething. In a way of red and brace, unprepared yet unev-
ading of responsible by stash, to try and not resist if (through
some miracle) occurs; this love, it speaks in colours. Pastel
For short, commando shorts in classic form, washed off quip
And uniform. As of tight against its place, my shape it does
Condition and replace – if on[ly] by thinking – of an ailment
Revealing frantic figure in the flesh, sordid instrument in
Making. Rage of man, rage of left again – pervading.

Vitamin R+

do the palms ever itch?
do you ever feel yourself slipping from
thought to sick obsession, urged to be the
privileged as done, defied – retried,
apologetic wonder bit down once and twice
and everytime it seems yes me, I’ll fail,
this blood it feels like everything will be,
in time, consumed. so I place a cold hand
by your wound(s), make sterile what
virile concession could turn from not
feral, but: wild, uncontrollable.
by taking of the medicine we’re thinking
does not work it does not hurt us.
which is why, through rolling r,
we realise.

madhorse.trojan [diskophore]

Frequent terminology includes (but is not limited to)
a basis of repetition,
the breaking of a p a t t e r n in this series of graphcurls,
type-errorrings – fist of tearing unit spreading worlds
and weights apart. Books in this example have always
been a sort of last resort, a way of rush expanding from
incision to the stream, blood not good not pumping;
ageing down by thinking just what should this do to
me, should I follow/keep on running? as each corner
turnt is only loose contouring as it starts, bulletswift
and surely taken much too much to heart but then so
WHY does this affect us? A blink in the drink is all it
takes, a simple slip in ease that makes the Beast of
all the difference. It is madness (so they say), and
also brilliance; distance is the only way of knowing
for a fact.