a young zealot struggles chip off old soul integrity – do not dream, yet
slips on phase says “plugged into acrimony the pathlight extinguished solar magnetism distraught”
the gravity well
an illusion of God
strapped on the backs of camels
never retreat cry the drivers
voice of Christ outside of Damascus shrill and enraged
though he flies
thou thou!
laws are laid as envelope of space is wrapped – a coup
from the bearded Son
he rests unconcerned sipping the molten mint tea
toes and sandals on stone and cries of mynah souls
soothe, they soothe the tension of youth
panspermia knowledge blank throat weakened
by force or corrugated metals twist sculpture that a mosaic tree lives
within an ice hearth – a forest unto thee (shaken panic pioneer snowglobe rolled across stone)
I am Son and You live inside Father’s womb