typing silver beasts on a primal page

break in
floating towards new and exquisite
forms of insanity
with time as an assassin
or an abstract flower
folding and flowing
as we follow the rhythm
of this mushroom seance
under a high pitched sun
wet and waiting
for the old gods to appear

how to delete this fearful millennium
the youth movement is dead and waiting
for new and exiled prophets to appear
staring at the present
we pop circles
and meter the miracle
washed in mad currents
of time-clock trapdoors

chemical calculation
golden tongues are boiling
as we discard society
and the perfect effect
of this social anxiety
gimme grimy freedom
in favor of
polished servitude

elements demand identity
as black words
shape white beats
and we engage in
cabalist conversations
with nicotine criminals
stealing the last blurry whispers
from this segregated machine

plotting with long fingers
and crazy eyes
we aspire
to write destiny
and dissident desire
between the seems
of another silent moon



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