A Vision Of Recovered Nonsense As Received In The Scrying Of The Reflective Helmet Of A Spaceman

i'm in a human junkyard
lives heaped in forsaken imperatives
lives once errant and unbound
now anchored to bestial machines
radioactive digital liquid color forms
hypnotic serene

being swallowed
guided with a pale tongue to an acid dark
empty spaces
soundless cries
shards glisten, from the waste down
i am severed cold

as unique and common as a rose
coveted by every hungry hopeful who dreams
of armor bedding with lace
a rehearsed romance represented by a severed growth
beauty fixed to the tip of a molested stem

strained eyes hang like a blaspheme
on a cross
red, white, and blue decor angel wings folded
concealing the whip scars on their backs

a com-oddity
stitches ornament flesh smoother than plastic
more alive
mutant enterprise in a pornograph stilted
and trademarked with a hollow name

cycle from apathy to despair, and back again,
rain carves a stone, slowly wipes the surface clean
too slow for any admirer to notice or
to cry in alarm at its defacement
scars deepen, wrinkles crease
freezing frequent expressions in place
common false smiles and surprises
an implant of every lie and emotion that was ever faked

nothing moves forward
nothing comes up from behind

the scent of this is an invitation to violence an ego will not be denied
make it bleed and flush out a christ child to redeem the sins
still fresh on our tongues
passive supplicant
King Masochist
you'll have an erection on your cross

a monkey is given a claim
learns a language and procreates hybrids
elect and enslave
elder chiefs in secret social caves
causeless in a thousand guises
it moves when it wants, its slightest gesture
is a tide of a million broken minds
obediant to their path which is lined
with the corpses of crucified strays

the oppression of conscience lifted
is this what happens when minds are set free?
the god with one eye blinds the masses
and declares itself King

executing ghosts
demons to the spine
red displays will choke their genocidal grind
trojan horses
bodies breaking down in treason

from this distance
even hell looks like a star