Don’t hesitate
Don’t turn your gaze
Don’t be lost in its haze
We gotta travel through the fabrics of time

Don’t meet his eyes
Don’t fight or flight
Don’t be a vortex of night
This hollow chamber echoes embers of a spiritual sign

Don’t swerve the nerves
Don’t slash and burn
Don’t be placing that curse
We gotta spit the ghost of verse as it dwells in our minds

Don’t levitate
Don’t try to escape
Don’t be spinning like plates
This hollow chamber reflect & genuflect for the wisdom divine

In this
intersection
vivisection
complete
savior
resurrection
automate
we contemplate
dream
demand
sleep
style
live
life
while
awake
in

intervention
all division
alone
in
madness
superstitions
of our
collective design

but the road is endless
as the mornings stretch
with
white lines
that now and again
begin
to resemble arrows

where are they taking me?

first past and lastly
passing the gaping
death throes of the raccoon.

staring at me.

eyes frozen on its final gaze
the day runners, night lights
mesmerizing
the pied piper leading the flock astray
they are mechanical
hollow but miraculous.
glowing with a stream of light

who are these pesky creatures?
where are they going?

along this infinite black top
what is their purpose?

probably dreaming
as i am dreaming now


my face contorted like his
(cognitive awareness be damned)

like him
i live
i react
i fuck
i fight and scratch and bite
to survive

my fingers are bent from
poorly healed fractures
my knuckles shake like
marbles in a bottle
when i get so fed up
when i get so goddamn tired
with everything before me

what is this?
did we actually build a reality such as this?
this is progress?
this is our evolution?

our hum and buzz
must have pursued this
poor creature, like a fly
that climbs on the stye
of his silent, dormant eyes

the death knell resounding
resonating in his hollow chamber of a chest
life like marbles rumbling through
black tarry lungs
the same tar that adheres to the sticky
copper hue of dried blood
on its eerie grin

it laughs at death
it condemns this fuck of a world
where constructions like
this are possible

in all its complexities
luxuries
insecurities are
mechanical wet dreams
writhing alone in bed

& dont we feel
as fantasies?
some sort of drip of cotton candy?
we a virus
or disease
slithering
about a cerebral cortex

its a vortex that
must have formed
with a massive crash
with a clash and slam of a car
that damns
rodents to a automotive
graveyard
bones and body parts
becoming dust
one patched tire at a time
amongst the crush of the
bristles of the hardended
brush of another truck
trying to wash
away the grins
while the dim of the skylight
mixes with the sin
of the street lights

the the fright on the faces of children
marveling and goggling
as they pass
the gruesome scene
where it lives forever
in their dreams

the hollow chamber
of memories
out of context
with fatigue
regret
intrigue

& in my swollen lips
& as i utter this mix

the phrases i mutter
coalesce
into the mp3
recorder
in order to
elicit
this confession
a document of the disorder of a malady
only experienced

since we rose up
on two feet from
the face of the
curious chimpanzee

& at some point
he and she

began to speak
like me

a voice echoing
alone

in a hollow
chamber