Oxidise

Moloch throwing a Molotov cocktail

as the final eclipse takes hold. Locked wails

drifting o'er the denim ripped scene

w-/ black clad grad students asking what does this all mean?

clutching a wishbone for lack of a skull

tinker tailor soldier spy burning bright artistic merit

above the superhero genre holding fair wit

of technicolour print exclaiming Gasp Pow

Boom Boom Pow dragging the melody to desperate llows'

of articulation & jagged shards beating down.

Breaks a tradition of Jazz & Bach found

before the synth ever held sway to our bodys

in the deadend breeze of the club hacking

our way to the bar w-/ fire axes lacking

a certain etiquette for the foreseeable future

losing leechcraft ; our souls appear to need a suture.

Held together by print & film cells

knocking on in montage. The Bells ! The Bells !

so so sporadic in the heart of man

following the trends & named brands

bursting thermite in the mind advertised

as theory in practice. As it appears we all survived

the therapy since losing meaning w-/ the mayflower's

departure.

Spiralling down the drain as it laughs at the

coming rapture.

Electric piece de resistance demanding conditions

be met by every & all facets of the religions

gathered beneath the nuclear life-giver burning

electro magnetic bursts as we're all learning

since neolithic cannabilism leaving us

twirling eternity between our fingers ; weaving rust.

Author's Note

Tear this apart...

Reviews

[sienikeha]

you have a definite voice. rich.
*clutching a wishbone for lack of a skull* ... *souls.. held together by print & film cells* .. *twirling eternity between our fingers* .lovely.

[Fabian G. Franklin]

Now why would anyone want to "tear this apart"? It would be like tearing apart Picasso's Guernica...the art would be destroyed but the problems and even the horrors of history and their representations in art would still exist. I think you speak volumes in this piece. It represents (to me, at least) the doubts and fears, the sufferings and growth of society as a whole as well as the underlying futility that caused Solomon to say, "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." and Percy Shelley to pen Ozymandias. It is represented in the melting clocks of Dali and the empty hourglasses and skulls of vanitas...life is fleeting...along with theories and hopes and dreams...but while we live we aspire to beauty and truth and that is the "hope that springs eternal in the human breast" but whether we, as a species are "eternal" is an altogether forgone conclusion. For "this too shall pass".

[Raven Starhawk]

In essence of it solid core I am always playing each line in my head. It is hypnotic and like a vivid daydream of sorts.