Faces spiking interest in my hippocampus.
They were made of heroic material,
simply soulful and healthy to envision in the battle of existence.
What beautiful contours on exhibit, effortlessly!
I see a sandy cascade over and around the vortex of expression;
the shapely bones and colored eyes give me faith that sweet salvation is real.
The quivering of leaves against the backdrop of the cosmos.
I cannot stop now that I have started,
fusing thoughts and matter, antimatter, and the wisdom of youth everlasting.
And I am whatever I am,
going on towards my good death in the winter of the future.
I wear my tight cloaking threads to bathe in comfort and to stealth my conformity.
I do have love and was loved.
Though I lost one card out of the deck, I can still play many games.
A leaning tower sings of hurricanes as I examine my own past.
I know everyone that ever existed.
Belief is undeniable.
It is quite hard to describe the world with such a loosely configured melon.
A dose of fermentation and the glory of a hot shower forces me to see the truth.
In the jostling railroad gravel is a subdued sound.
A brilliant bullet comes, forged with the same ore as our vileness and sleeping morality.
Do you see it?
It bursts through us, and it kills your noise. As it should, it deafens me as well.
We have gone through thirty rounds of inconsistent love for the earth,
love for each other, and love for ourselves.
Please give us over to humanity, for the gods, we no longer need you.
To the dumpster with antiquated hard-hearted steamroller style baptism,
so that we can ride down into some cloud called decomposition in peace.
We are all equipped
to live life without the judgment and malice of someone’s horrible mind,
except that we’ve never had any practice.