Hellbent Gods, Godesses Plucking Stars From My Hair

Athwart is the resolve of combatants...

I Am and Am not.

Untold purification rests at both sides--

unresponsive leverages grow the Circle.

Were it not for the staying power of

me...these brackets of vision would not

quake as they are set.

At half-staff neither country nor body...

invoking athwart...consanguinity that is

the meaning of poetry's verbose transfusion.

Heir, heiress...universe--a haunting inheritance

Whole.

I Am the sprightly idiot found out amid the

galactic cauldron--hellbent Gods/Godesses

plucking stars from my hair.

There are windows in my classroom that itch

dearly.

Konstantinos Mark

Reviews

[...]

. you are an amazing poet ...
. because you are an amazing human being ...

[Brandon S. Whitten]

"galactic cauldron, a haunting inheritance" Like the use of words. Excellent!