Gunther

his capillary butterflies,
freed from the cocooned tomb
of morbid flesh, render
filigreed plastics
exposing, deeper than naked,
more than you may wish

To Your Health

no everyday magic visible
in these last days of the weak
every veining tied off pulse
beset by the beast
with only the viable offered
purchased grace
a cold calculus of collusion
to fell this fabulous folly
so what hope for a mongrel nation
that chooses never to wake
from the amaurotic thrall of capital

So Much More For That Much Less

between my ribs quiver
darting fishes of doubt
fed upon calloused liver
through this malty drought
where an urgent voice demands
death to the little comfort in which I reside
and leaves no choice but
that I contemplate domesticide

The Hum Inside

challenger deep
finger plugged ears beg
be still
yet hear the comfort of engines turning
every echoed sibilating pump
and sinewy creak
despite my ought for silent running

Vitrum

in a world of higher function
what becomes of this single channel recipient
body blue mustard leaf and semen bled
wild in uprising and slow to fall?

but that they must when days of calling
demand the youngest blood
and in fields of madder slaughter
weld upon them earthly hood

Fire-Ships

be silent

listen

in that quiet moment

reflect

am I a friendship?

or a fire-ship
slipping unnoticed
into your quiet mooring
a glowing rage rendering gaseous
the coals of your knowing
no dream forging tapestries of smoke rise
from this incandescence
just a searing grip around your throat
scorched bacon blue

Singular Sound

there is no silence
hated constant companion
this whistling devil