A Thing Poem by B. Sven Telander

Obsequious tesseracts of beginnings,
insidious conceits of endings
double back through outcroppings
of distortion, tidaling malfunction,
gashing discordance in a programmatic
seminar of angst.

Necessary multi-petaled lotus of pain
feels so warm, dreams of haze and shade,
a plush nexus with rainwater of Lethe
bottled in emerald cellular chambers,
aches of vapor, flames of access;
memory the heavy wash.

Thunderous caress, an encapsulated
novem, a quintessential helix of
understanding razors question a
resistance to patterns of the lost
with the scent of leather and bloody
earth as blackened art burns.

Scattering scratches through a past where
memory lakes and clouds of dreams
boil and steam as tricksters of the raw
secret form so talented a cabal
selecting magical vendettas from
the conspiratorial hat of mind.