a clockwork heart

You’re nobody to your god
something that hurts
A gap in the barrier maze
Boomers: The Zombie Generation
angel haven
wear the horns
why the past is winnable
Play the road alive
noscope jumpshot

why the past is valuable
nade the tree
a well in Manchuria
torus manifold “angel”
a divine loser
the Wrath and the Blood
a bucket of swine
loser TV
if the world is ending, for you, let it end

Split the Blood of an “Angel”
invoke a fallen cryptid’s name
call down the army of “heaven”
where there are rivers, there are valleys
hollow words, hollow ideology, hollow faith
stand for anything and everything – until finally nothing
it is an empty gourd – a clanging cymbal
Behind the Veil; the Holy of Holies
where there are deserts, there are mountains

A replica of the Temple, in “Heaven”
The half-angel’s sacrifice
Insta-shy
The Blood of a higher species
Pocky hero
Band-Aid warriors
AI zoo
The Last Ziggurat
the ark of genes

your world ends when you let it
unknowable Minos; the fires of Troy
preserve our genes
children of the anti-hero angel

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 7/01/20. Copyright, All Rights Reserved.

play the ridge

in the memer age
an inscription, half-erased, on a temple
the luxury of zooming out
like the map of Eurasia
can only be learned in pieces
missing words and audio loops
forgotten sound bites
where do ideas come from
think in full sentences

convenience goods, and economies
the most important thing we can do
first does not always equal best
empires of steel
Mother Demeter
Big solstice energy
the ultimate Answers lost to prehistory
lost beings of the last Ice Age
where you are and when you are

from Scandinavia to the Balkans
roast duck and spiced ham
what they found in the ice
secret societies and lost lands
millions of years until boars, fishhooks
Iron Age Constantinople
Sun deity messiah
Jurchens and Janissaries
the dying and reborn goddess

unsolved mysteries of linguistics
obvious results, without obvious causes
a long time of nothing, until something
The Flying Bike
Exceptionally no
a cosmic waiting game
I am the nade king
empty golf ball planet
keep our economy boiling

looking through the red dot
nade the smoke
final thunderclap; last rain
share the inheritance of the gods

Please do not repost without my permission, but you can support my poetry here! Originally written 6/29/20. Copyright, All Rights Reserved.