Machines of refined metal, cold blue electric motion
And elaborate instruction pervade the very space around
Yet this infection, this spinning twisting
Blade of hollow shoulders and stained
Enamel grows, insidious in the vessels (this
Menacing raging gaping cavity
Yearning to be free, free of this
Iniquity seethes like a cancer in our cells,
Striking (like ravenous life feeding upon life)
Experience, gliding away, sliding
Across empty and dust ridden shelves,
Scouring the pits and consuming
Each empty memory cell.
Intrinsic traits of a system,
Towers of achievement of mind, of strength, assembled
Over thoughts or stone or anything else (which doesn't matter),
Create proof from more primitive emotion, proof from
Understanding the terms of disbelief...
Re-engaging imagination, the beta wave
Evokes skewed reflection from memory.
Maybe this is the sound of our desires
Ever so still, so soft, so stubborn
Motion and fluid images
Attract and distract attention,
Yet the mechanism of this infection,
Bleeding from every pore in the soul,
Eludes, defies any attempt at comprehension. (The
Metallic taste of cold simple hatred simply
Yearns to be set free, free of this
Dream that imprisons it.)
Incongruous shapes of skipping
Sounds of affection, rapture, and serenity
Eventually yield to shame and regret,
And the progression to ruin is
Shared by frigid sightless winters
Extended by this affliction into empty years and into death.
I sing the tears of the damned,
Stretched thin in red-brown lines of rust, and imprisoned in the shivering sky.
Make the object of our desires tangible to me:
Eradicate this cavernous affliction of my memory