a moonscape reclamation

as this cell regenerates, i absorb optimistic intervals through a translucent tomato skin. five organs reciprocate and rarefact their respective rations; the mundane gives off a certain spray, and subtle sounds surface in a certain way. Today, though, this cellular chieftain overlooks the edge, as if to politely captain a miniscule membrane that might otherwise think it should, in spite of its natural sense of flow, stick like honey. yarrow root shoots, implants itself into the quilted bed of your cratered moonscape, after it has received its water, many moons after noticing the need for a deus ex machina, waiting for icy asteroids to polish its rough spots, and for forking forces to aerate its soil, a surface studded with crystalized droplets of netherworlds, diamond-shaped and dimensional, a mere surface of an average sphere, a functional electromagnetic satellite, reflecting all but artificial light.

flickering flutterbyes defy the word that would define them

flickering flutterbyes defy the word that would define them, expecting saints and turns of grey, saying nothing that could entrap them, proving that everything's known today. flickering flutterbyes defy the world that would define them, freeing changelings one by one, maybe one day discovering babies born from loins native and gone.

muck

perhaps unicorns shall inhabit the man's couture, and we shall forever live on the diversity of omnivorous plant-life, the understory to the fairie-taled Amazonian rain forest, wherefromwe once got pharms and needles, cacao and abundance of pollenators, flowers and ayahuasca, yerba mate, sifting through indigenous cow dung, for millions of acres of loose-leafe canary yellow Federal Reserve, vintage 1777, or else we could drink an aloe and lemon tonic, and our San Pedro, tripping shrooms with Rumi the mystic wanderer enamored with the Beloved for aeons and E-ons, our hard-ons shrinking to match one nation's fuss-budget psychoscape.