WJHRI

What Judge Holden’s Rolled In

You named him Judge Holden

wtf, why?

You wrote his name in book

Labeled

Next Up To Fry

Bet, she said

Check, said he

but chalk it up to narc

In the raiment of night

Ruarch is just pneumatic dispose

You got a rip in your spirit

To match the one in your hose

Unihemispheric

eyes tattooed on lids

So I can stay awake

Full effulgence

-Catfish dinner with some grits

Still riding on a mop handle, cursing like a grown up, panting;

Don’t ask me for the time its gone

Don’t task me more time, too long

Still riding on a mop handle, cursing like a grown up, panting;

of the great things

you will do.

All the world was made from naught?

Nothingness? Crowing now in stock?

If tis true indeed,

Then nothingness is trying to peak

And Naught appears to have sprung a leak.

Showing off her track marks, see?

Claiming she’s just a vaccinee?

Its all just you

Its never me.

Mercy at its most pure

is anarchy.

A reckoning, once rented out

has no right to look about.

City of refuge barometer broke

You get the lime

Ill dig the hole.

Absquatulate the squatter’s dream

Just a fence about a folderol

Clean sheets and some sleep

that is all

We fell in love in the war

and something in the ether stirred,

honoris causa-

Yes, my lord.

from the grave of showers

To the neck of chords

lo they make me feel like i was born to care

eel-like schematics; i lie for you too easily scare

destructors are ready

and the pawns all are still

for the charge is…..

all fucked

cut….

The enemies here,

Lights and he enters to an

an electrum of screams

Sewed into the seams

PROCLIVITAS

Bedazzled onto his hat

The easiest one to love or hate in the room

Dangling mutilation like it was a boon

We cannot forgive, for we hate ourselves

Cannot deliver, neither incense nor pills

Cannot be crowned, its got no Greeks

Cannot be free, its got no peaks

Cannot believe

For you cannot obey

Winds cease to whisper

About getting away

As the trolley man yells to, get the fuck off

What the hell are you gonna do?

Where is the horse and the rider

The horn that was blowing is shorn

as sonder sets

cromulent

as solipsism is quietly

reborn

Many minds but few see that the

truly amazing things

like

Nature gesturing…

go back the way you came.

You broke off for me

and I for you

but you died

what more was I to do?

Its just phonosphonese no ones real,

just wait n see

we hallucinated the whole thing

Yonder craved will break

the Maid

and the

The Merrymen

Whhuuuummmmp

you’re in air

Variegated

But you’ve no sails

On no hands

Metaphysical cannot be wood

Ineffable’s day has come and past

We tied that bitch

to the mast.

Shredding manifestos last-

breath the rest is but a fix-

in the foxhole,

King of Lyre is in repose

is your disssss-graccccce,

but the ssstate your in

Is slight distassste,

Of the you watching you

ride the mare off precipice,

Things in saddle,

seated backward

Sawing air

Giving proposals

On transmorphic dalliances

wishing they were syzygy

in epiphany of the golden line no one but you has ever seen

Until you plummet

Eyes still on me.

chasm

separating man

from what he should have done

from the faces

on which he should have blown

And now your eternity will begin undone

I check everyday in the mirror to see if its time.

Cry for the eternity in

man

Two shovelfuls of lime

seek to deform the perpetually

damned

I was never given a choice or a grin

Poisoned my lakes

Salted my fields

and yet I keep paying taxes

because that was the

deal

No more discovery

Just findin

laziest of all creatures is a poet, for they dont have long.