LOGOS

the porcelain colored cloud, pale;
the blind of a child trapped in
the wheel of eternity -
with a slow, wet smile and
the shit heart of the son of
Dog,
there's a brilliant embrace hollowed empty to
an angelic form of transparent
glass, drinking and bleeding,
some throbbing Thing
haunting this empty space -

the broken, failed Father,
the petty god of some impossible night, preceding
a morning of Never,
poisoned breath exhaled, a false secret,
an Away, as elusive as any horizon -

young
wild
a prisoner of perpetual rebellion,
the screaming slave of Always,
born to be condemned -

born to be a fool,
a Logos, The Word,
which always resembles laughter.