Magnets Open All the Same IV


Voodoo Universe

I manage time but still loose heart,

my brain vertigo hemorrhage of
gravitons and gluons.

Hands whirl on a silver circle
on the office wall,

timing the heart beats until Golgotha.

I smell the stench of veneer and
hide in the cave of your empty republic mentioned sunken city.

Yet I cannot stop the goose skin
death ticking of apollo’s paycheck.

Time itself is measured in sticky
melted wax drawn on a wall with a smelly grin.

Yet, I always will wonder if your
music will stop breaking tone and find the pitch to sit on my wallowed
mellowed soul.

posted: 06 March 16
under: Poetry

  • anna
    i learned a new word with this one...golgatha
    -
    also did you write this one last year really?- seems more like you may have written it sitting at subscriberbase
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