Destrudo II: Vociferation at 768 mph

Yesterday, Van Gogh hadn't even started painting.
Today Fibonacci is already dust, forgotten and unaware.
Tomorrow I am a carved story, written on human tarpaulin.
This golden trio, synonymous with the world both
Bittersweet and running
Grinning even over the bluffs.

There is no right time she says.
Side-winding slaps to the face
And we turn the other cheek.
There is only time left says he.

Embracing this Goliath: count the lines,
Label the curves, and seek out the nooks.
This is our world damn it.
And we are missing the mark.

Destrudo I: Whispers at 768 mph

Is it raining red?
Or am I drowning from the inside out?

Windshield-wipers over my eyes cease,
Half completed and sublimely over-clocked unwound in cloudy wilderness.
From my cheeks,
Liquid magenta markers compose borderlines across my body
Etching the multitudinous canyons that reverberate,
Revolting against the plate,
Crossing the frame, destroying my delineation;
Pushed against myself, submerging the very part of-
Renewing what had just come to know life.

These confounding crossings, squiggles upon my squirming,
Just like snow in November, a world not ready for equality, or
Echoing shells that keep talking back
Shouting impotent unfortunates:
This is the exponential acceleration of a generation unknowing
And I am stirred; made dizzy, only constantly.

Thanatos III: Scratches Heard on the Wallpaper

Cinder block and Yule log ash
Between rattled bulwark and painted gash of drywall canvas.
I leap from broken parapet and tumble through the hairline crack of facade.
Wind at a hindrance and an impediment
Driving me into the dark: a blurry moon
Only blue and then a darker.

I stand at the edge of Estuary, a tranquil geyser
Of melting veneer, slipping in the sincerity of the wolf.
Up to my knees in greywater;
Filtered in the refined gaze of his crater formation.
Woof wolf.

I am the revolutionary of 24 hours
Your other half, eclipsing the ocean.
Blind city lamppost - beautiful blue
Ignoring techno scratches and burning lights a
Discarded stone into the reflection of the stars.
Gaze into the sky dearest.
We are already Here.
Whirlpool memories flood
My ebb and flow.