It is inscribed on some tombstone
That anger takes root in depression and hopelessness.
Sadness indulges the spleen
With torched fervor and flaming ordnance.
The terror, the wrinkles of it,
Are ironed out; the shivers are stilled,
Ashes in the atmosphere dissolve.
Dilapidation run amok,
Architecture crumbling like cake, structural degradation,
This is how I have always lived,
My flesh indented by fiery hooves.
It should never, and I mean never, come down to one man,
Barely even a silhouette,
He the cold soul of the universe,
Its celestial clockwork spiraling about him.
In the end, all that matters
Is that there's some spike of land left
Though surf smashes and explodes around it,
That the ocean, with its ten thousand wavy paws,
Doesn't swallow it and digest it into its blinding depths.
Just as spring births summer, it is epigrammatic
To script that wrath stems from despondence,
That a there's a reciprocal joust,
An unsheathed reply.
I hate all dialogue;
I dream of wasps stinging those that scream.
If I sublimated my dearth of heart
Into unbound, stormy ire,
Torrents let loose from The Kingdom,
That would be true revenge.
I demand corpses.
From this city, this country, this planet,
I demand corpses.
I am not just an extinguished, airy herd of ashes
A current of misdirected sear.
I am fruitful with the blood of ruin and havoc.
And I will live on.
I will live on to devour your kin,
Your fetuses pocketed in bellies of warmth.
This chapter of my life will be written with
Silvery etched verse Inked with starlight.
This era will be endowed With steep numerals unheard of,
With degrees of centigrade above the rims of imagination;
The giving and the collapse
Has reached its nascence, In stalwart, capital letters.
I have made promise after promise,
Oath after oath,
That this eschatology, yours and mine,
Will be the study of
The material, the particular, the grainy, and the distinct, no
Of unsung winds and invisible breath.
It will be a science, and
Not a garbled history,
Nor ruminations in the dark,
Nor opinionated metaphysics,
Nor a hologram blown about in a gale.
