Divulging Thoughts of Scorn and Reason (a collaboration with SinisterSpital)

Christened as 
a malignant gleam 
swimming in a 
hydrocele stream, 

    
   
swallowing the swell 
    
in a stygian cullion 
    
another kumquat rebellion 
    
in a myopic sack filled    
with fickle ejaculated    
dreams.  
   
You are that what you think    
or is it that which you smell,    
   
fucking shit stinks...    
broken waste receptacle.    
   
Spin off inside your minds third eye    
to alienate the course    
that you once found a reason.    
   
Stranger things with g-strings 
    
sing of my stingy strands    

that screen creamy screams    
syphilitic misery that stings.
    
   
Subsidized individuality    
is the new world    
teleprompter craze,    
   
leaving the feeble crowns dazed    
Implementing silicone cellular towers    
into galvanized old spines    
of the brutally unkind.    
   

I flew as a shushed wind    
in a wing of sin    
dropping 
iconic abaddonian drops    

ink blot counter shot, 
    
   
a psionic cyclops 
    
with a tertiary eye 
    
blinking through    
the 
head of his cock. 
    
   
A call to arms has the malevolent    
under scrutiny of the unions grandiose militia dropping tear gas echoes    
in oak barrels of Kentucky whiskey    
cast in days of the sun.    
   
No rebellion can harbour    
the ships booming mast    
that remembers immigrant songs    
hummed.    
   

A rubicon anomaly    

brandishing linear 
    
hyperextended espionage, 
    
   
no sabotage shall spy 
    
the lineage I hide, 
    
   
bitter traces of 
fragmented sages, 
    
   
trifle encounters shied away    
through digital impressions    
that have severed contact with mankind,    
   
truth is incidental in    
abbreviated forfeiture    
that once blossomed    
relations accounting,    

    
relative icons fortify 
    
my lexicon polygon    
another 
assassino paragon.
    
   
Disabled appendages relate    
little upon sympathies arms,    
   
mobilizing the deranged in    
cranial's cracked,    
   
intoxicate now this crafty idealism    
of how the past is reincarnated    
through tree branch limbs.    
   

Mr. Spital peeped 
the    
archaic pyramid 
    
I sheen,    
   


told me,    
   
watch the inertia of relativity  
and not band, this moment  
implodes with subsonic energetic    
contortions of apathy,    
   
left in this vast wasteland    
of our trivial existence    
were but miniscule blips on a line,    
   
debris data in a dusty lie,

    
   
fuck these flakey fakes 
    
remember you too are    
untranslatable and untamed    
another wayward quill,    
   
your blotted dots are 
blessed    
with Gehannaian ink    
now scribble the walk 
    
of your paradoxical blink. 
    
   
Under satellite songs    
come to find who will really    
come to phone home    
and increase their polarity.    
   
Attach electric razors    
on digits that dance    
around ceramic headed caulonders    
of prolific shame.    
   
They're just dullards,    
I say stuck porch junkies    
drooling over a time lost    
in verbal menstruations.    
   

That paisano lit a pyre 
    
I admired the truth 
he spit, 

    
   
as I drool over the 
ink    
of his intellectual 
    
kaleidoscopic sins.    
   
So Quill instigates    
boisterous upheavals    
that rival gospel and    
old snake charming    
ways of the insane,    
   
Chilled I'm singing due praise    
and burning crosses    
in derelict cemeteries    
where the south hung it's shame.    
   
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Quietusquill.All Rights Reserved.    
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Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright    
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Quietusquill.    
   
A collaboration with another anomalic    
quill SinisterSpital thank you bro.    
I enjoyed dropping this Mad Truth