welcome to the House of Nezua
where sticks turn to serpents in your scrambling fist
n truth weeps like ghee in the pocket of a runaway trick
Rule 3: We All Want to be Free
i’ll do right by you if you do right by me
do not tell me how to write
n i’ll not tell you how to breathe
let’s enter a contract confessing our ecstasy
at heart
i’m a tapestry they could not tear apart
and if they had
i would swarm like diamond splinters
through their corrupted crypts
reflecting every brilliant
color of the sun
i’m a razor sharp minnowed movement
an iridescent exiled child
of renegades on the run
tender and true, as
violent as they come
i sing like sea storms when the world falls silent
i scream pure static in the common tongue
Blog
To My Dear General Tavillo ~
My advice to you is to choose an object. Just one. But one you truly care about. I’m sure there is something you find beautiful, or unique in the world, or just especially pleasing to look at. Something you would give your attention, and precious time to, in this desolate place—without being reminded, or pressured. …
Harlequin Mongrel
SHEPADOH. Hearken to the chime, the salt, grinding tongue on lime, the rapping of the knuckles for the fifteenth time. We enter the chamber. We keep getting higher. And quieter. And finer. Soft motes of light, something between sand and dust. Atoms of inspiration, branching outward. Trees for thighs, and a heartbeat that starts fires. …
ERA OF ILLUSIONS
BORNE ALOFT ON A SEA OF ILLUSION, I JOURNEY THROUGH TIME. The cabin walls are thin and as I lie awake, the smashing fizz of a million tiny termites etches layered incantation into the blackness of midnight. I can hear everything, but am I listening to the right conversation? Distortion is an ever present force, …