Ethan Moyer Poems

I want to see beauty.
I want to see the ethereal bindings.
I want to see the transcendental star murderers.
I want to see peace and war in the badlands.
...

We’re dressed in our best,
And we’re ready
For the show.
...

And the bed-time hero,
Returns back to his mire.
Dear Abbey,
The children are all dead.
...

Eager brilliance blooming.
In timeless transcendental grasses.
New fat, lovely asses of the
Born again lovers rejoicing upon
...

Walking through the forest,
Wandering,
Wandering,
Wandering, drunkenly through the crimson war skies.
...

And now the streets are riddled with cocaine and sunflowers.
The love generation; a passed out smile.
The time our strange earth grew high,
And the saint lion, satin lovers
...

Eagar.
Emotion, channeling.
Light it.
The child-lock,
...

I no longer feel safe.
No longer thriving in the woven October sunrise.
No longer loving in incestuous burden.
No sanctuary of eager childhood secrets.
...

Hot tireless lucidity,
Grant me your starry hour of
Forget-less night and
Divine teenage evening.
...