The
City of Men
The
ravens gang up
on
the lone tree
in
my neighborhood
house
of sticks and ether
besides
the towering
jungle
of silicates;
gloss
of stupor double-binds
the schizophrenia
of
Gods' city.
A pocketful of plate-tectonics,
a
few quantums of love and hate,
a
sleep-walking inertia
living
the dreams
of
ancient mummies;
let
the gods sleep
in their UFO drones.
There
are no doors to heaven
there
are no truths
to seek
are
you there, my friend?
are you awake?First appeared in "Novelmasters"
Multiplicity
Nothingness
Glitch and gravity, both
bend the space
time-warp my already
whacked-out reflexes
I make the Mobius strip
and a couple of more paradoxes
out of my psyche;
God must be a geometer
as Kepler has thought once.
a sonic excess of noise
or the rhizomatic fuzz
inside the root of a pepal tree;
life oozes out of
every impossibilities
in a path
nor straight, neither curvilinear
fractal, probably.
Have you ever tried
to make nothingness
deep-dream in Google?
to get countless virtual raves,
multiverses, cat-eyes
for the laser-light
and few psychedelic
shinto temples.
matter and mind
weave an irreducible
psychoid whole
related and plural
undivided, yet many
The Tao of psychophysics.
All my life, I haunted
for the single truth
and ended up finding
many whores,
some sleepless rivers that flow
straight from a beer-factory,
few deathless trees that refuse
not to dance for a second
and some coked-out gods
who like to party
wearing a blood-soaked skull
for a cap.
I
am not a
sell-out
but I find no difference either.
but I find no difference either.
First appeared in "Zombie Logic Review"
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