Omnivorous Thinker And Pupil of the World


“The genius of poetry must work out it’s own salvation on a man.”

-John Keats

 Omnivorous Thinker

And Pupil of the World

I have good blood in my underground streams

Full of plain hindsight bias

A shame for my god-damn hardened kin

I have hypnotically hidden lost memories

Re-implanted amnesia with the secretest stuffing

That rests in my leech-like muscles and head

I have carried as a goddess child-like kid

An omnivorous thinker and pupil of the world

A clone of my skull with the little puella doll

I once really was….a goddess gold-like skin

The logos of a forgotten time

I have slung written flexile dirt into whatever

I tried to say was poetry

A soft silence bubble-wrapped with sway

I have collections of life-collector’s collecting ancient fatherly

Antiquity that is lined with homemade masonic mortar mix

The world without a fortified god accuses all of life-fraud

Leaving like to like

Longing for life after life to live while alive


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