Shredded into fragments,
mistaken for beauty—
a towering aberration
bred in covenant with god,
an unholy union.
Immaculate conception rewrites
the geometry of order.
The primordial gods witness it—
and something ancient in them breaks.
War arrives
where silence should have ruled.
A consummation of man and divinity
splinters the sacred spine of civilization.
A lineage without origin,
a design without restraint—
humanity diagramming its own collapse.
How did it come to this?
A mirror once held before God
caught a fracture of light—
a spark mistaken for permission.
From that error
something is carried down:
a stolen architecture
dragged through the conduits of heaven.
It was never meant to descend.
In human hands,
such knowledge refines itself
into a quieter form of extinction—
polished, patient, almost tender.
It learns to laugh
as it erases.
Until only dust remains
with voices inside it saying:
men lived here.
A waterfall is neither a moon beam nor is it icing dripping from a big cake. It is wise to build fortresses of ice in skating weather but skiing weather cannot make the deadline so the cross country brigade of brigadoons are in areas unvisited and therefore unexplored by mankind. Cleanliness in a goblet goo and bleached bath bombs can eradicate even the most stale smell of blemished food. But watching a movie on a six mile screen is equivalent to eating banana peel on a motorway in a lay by. Tailoring treating treatments taking talismanic traders talking trees. And a big wide berthed arch on a canal path is exemplary style of an architectural wonder. Xx beanbags xx diagramming diamonds xx stratification z that was the p y q reporting from a snow globe.
writing in the margins
hiding on the page
schooled in imperfection
cowering with rage
following the guidelines
living by the book
simulated blindness
terrified to look
frozen indecision
powerless to choose
diagramming failure
satisfied to lose
putting off beginning
steering clear of ends
intimate with strangers
insecure with friends
fleeing ever faster
running short of breath
sprinting out of childhood
hurrying to death
lying in the postscript
bleeding from the heart
living in the margins
dying from the start
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