The Perilous Years

From “The Last Land” The years were fresh but the sea Was filled with stomach cramps, and burning tips Against a psychic belly The vibration of fishes As they were jumping angrily over the sun's rim. A toxic light as a procession With its own measure fled over all these scattering shadows And its demented ray makes love To the son of Evil who was striking suddenly As a wedding ass in a golden plate! In a small fountain, concentrating By diluted water, I drink; I try to be alive; that's the only reason I was loving this unknown monster because I myself not human, Not a soul sailing but a rare thyroid that created those Structures threatening to evade the failing Moment; as they say, the Hope made the killers Smiling, when the verdict was just a fancy holder. And when the monitors were still invisible A voice was thrilling off, "Oh, I’ll born tomorrow and I can erase Myself today and see myself in front of you Twenty thousand years for now," he said As an antibiotic; behind it all things still pursing each other, By the still unknown forcer, and with intensity All smashed around me.