Loosen the electric vinyl tourniquet
remove the plain arrangements of the spine
create more
unravel your rope to rope in the echidna
With this power
I stand alone
they smile...
to be controlled...
The mind gyrates on it's weathered heel
to see what's floating towards us
this hole of many fortunes
unraveling certain ecstasies
What is this object?
Its velocity confuses the eye...
My subjects are running amuck
my subjects float away
This black, sleek vessel
has shorted the motherboard
we tend to run in circles
the natural death of order
and the process repeats itself...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem