seer of sorts

Castrated, I have become impenetrable.

Men, o me-mes, cannot hardly lick my surface.

The cure of vulnerability is a ploy,

As is the cure of empowerment,

For power is the play of me-mes

And their machines

Of repetition and battery.

I have been castrated by the mysteries

Of being tethered to the ground

And smelling the grounds

Of carnage.

Ram ram goes the oblivious cattle raid in glee

Bearing the palls and balls of their people

The boon is given by paltry pallbearers

Only poonful of mead can we oblige

And believe that ram ram good

As told by our forebears

Me-me ram-ram boom

Ad nihil rem

Of naught

In the order of algorithmic scrolls

Of lip service of the ever ducking

Any actual cunning

By impostured catering

Is for the me-me gaze

Servicing the me-me haze

Wafting from the grazing

Malodorous bubble

Of stalemates.

Beneath or beyond the scrolls of the dead see

I unearth or retellurize memory

The mille-feuille repertoire of

Folds upon folds

Of fields

And endodimensional networks

Of tingles

Addressed to the kernel

Of presence.

This here world is an impossible world, however

Whatever is in it suffers not from triviality

But from being contradictory iff true

No matter how serious the tone

How self-important the line-breaks

It is impossible

It is a surface

That cannot fold

Off course.

My all-seeing eye, this here solitary monocle

Adopted my castrated core as a peer

And together they are all-peering

Certainly peeving, insufferable

The least pornographic

Of abominations

Unconsummation

Of a tardy

Offer.

All perverse incentives are hereby bounced

As if as if I could, yet we perhaps

We the people of where and when

We the dreaded and bawdy

The children are we

Got to connect

Eye to Eye

To most

Of all.

Publicado por

Maíra Mendes Galvão

maquinista.

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