a statuesque goddess
still beneath the
Perforated pylon
Pathagorus’s pencils
deep red pails pontificating the
meaningless mad encephalogram

yours is the green witch
neutral bitch
my bodily fluid
woke up feeling the fervor
of my transgressions I
police them in the bend
of triangular gods they
are threesomes of impolite static
polluting the airwaves as rogue
undercover sages simplified complexity

crumbling quickly as I can see
humble cronies partially wound
themselves spiked impaled
lacerations send your angels
to pick through the scraps
one thousand times
I say there are
no angels here

zero zero zero
adds up to the empty chalice
I raise in honor of your brilliant
nymphatic notions
I lose to the poison
artful living embodied me
my pants wet from semen
I collect away the footnotes
I slip crawl and watch stars
crackle out dusk
leave me now
a ghost too many
shit in a word
travels short
as I share blood
with my keyboard