Blind To Periphery

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Blind to periphery

Deaf to anything emitting estranged lips—

Hunting for verbs when a plethora of consonants writhe intangibly by the weeping wounds concealed by striated grief—

Feral and straying from the path that light guides feet towards—

Ignorance of enigmatic gates, ignorant of the ellipsis of never-ceding fate, you crumble softly upon the shield of those that fell first, in a shining misperception of self

Non-stop layovers

overstepping functionality

of shapelessness. Forms and

fragmentations sympathetically

frighten systems ever

skewered by the partitions

that stir connections between enmity and the ingratiated—

ever arching and over-reaching

spans and sprawls of doldrums

constructed solely to offer control 

to otherwise distortional groups of experimentation

that when sung, embellish all that’s pretty and pure,

creating caricatures too severe to ever be considered

anything more than pseudo-speak—

relationally inept monstrosities

 remotely kept to score the sensations of relations

as to what is, and bound to be necessity—all

too often these pronouncements purge within, the waves and turns

forever tumbling through the tumults in our acidic wake

When you are alone, the internal monologues

never seem to die—instead

words and dialectical compositions

continuously loop back and about

awry the confusing preambles retort—

triangulating the precipitation upon the brow,

and then appears, the invisible degradation, the corruption

of motility, the vagrancy of ability, in flux stasis, gyrating in solitary

confirmation, lens of laughter, peering at you through the shafts of radioactive thought processions, creating, haunting

the cyclicality of mood irrigating all paths to come, all ruts we’ve succumbed from.