The neighborhood god had a rotten son
He said "Sometimes I want to slash my wrists but if I did nothing would come out"
When he states emphatically
When he states without room for doubt
"I'm the one"
It sounds like a threat
The breaking apart starts the moment he was awarded a certificate in leadership
No patterns of comparison for his arc of the leviathan
The breaking apart, the sudden weight produces fast growing cracks
Stand on my brain and introduce yourself to deliberate nomads
A culture spirals counter-clockwise into no culture
And the deliberate nomads can only offer materialism as cultural identifiers
A faulty theory of progression
Bought into the up and down definition (now disproven)
It's crooked, it's wrong but it's neither abstract nor linear
It spills out from the side
The guts of a newly slain stag
Straw guts like a fencing dummy slashed by overeager students
There is no relating this "now" to a moment in your past
Horrific and real it defies reaction because reaction is tied to moments in your past
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem