Drama of The Cursed 


allowed to live


in a place dedicated to triumph


obscured by obtuse lectures


gross inadequacies


a light vaguely scratching


dreams lose potency


under litanies of pressure


galloping warp fields


gross thunder, ready to drink


caves of mildew


ready to drink


in the drizzling rain


one drink again


with jazzers


*


but feeling again like the flower rising depths


stuck inside I observe an inner field explode into wrathful biology


molting stars become the anus of exacting dreams


I bleed into seamless multitudes breath heavier than dark breath


a blugeoning tool allowing me space to bludgeon wisely


and with furious game


I’m a super star you see, a void beyond reckoning


a chamber for powders


fine and chunked


no one has a voice like me


thats a fact


at the same time


*


cold air, moon on the ice, fire under my thumb


I told my relatives to leave my body, under penalty of my own existence


crushed the ashes of a letter to a drifter


I never wrote


*

unbelievable things have been happening, chilling things


uninviting to be here in this place at this time -


theres are currents of thematics


running beneath the physicality of our interlocked embankments


truly this place has become


a battleground - for


instances


*


another year without a winter -


drawing coins, cards and feathers


trying to summon


a knowledge that can secure freedom


there’s no power left


in the intrinsic


*


its night again


nothing speaks


in the lips of aleah


a growing temple