dear miss Shelley-1

dear miss Shelley,
must I really be in these pages
that your quill has so cursively commanded?
must you breathe life
into my pre-existence?
merely an image that your eye
under this bridge of fantasy has expanded
penetrating into my empty space
that your write now
quarters for a soul
I want to hide here
Im on the brink, unbalanced
on the forge of some mass-imagination

and the praetorians below can hellsing
to the fire of grave hideous creation
and compel me to rise
all hooked up to these pages
of this book
table of scientific experimentation
such are the volts of your
minds’ beckoning,
my constant consternation
arcing up many my fears
and the night of every mare
upon the shelves
of every reading nation

....after all
this is just a competition
there is no need to pen-push
gothic cliffs into the sea of literary abberration