light bloodied, ephemeral
natures glower impenetrable
material seams stitched imperfect
lithe hands do pick apart
We will make good this transgress
We will undo this wrong
the embolus breached,
spat curdled dark in which he toils
oh so he shudders and breathes,
gluttonous and fat on our pleas
We were curious,
with questions unformed
entreated our concern
to the loneliest god
and now we renege
in hopeless retreat
for the words were served up
we allowed him to speak
many splendid stars like buoys,
measure his hands breadth
as he strains, struggles, succeeds
nimble these digits do claw
"Art as the single superior
counterforce against all will to
negation of life, art as the anti christian
anti buddhist, anti nihilist par excellence"
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