Dirt road in Mexico

Supposed “magic” implies incredulity. I contend that it requires faith and a belief in the miraculous; in other words, nearly inhuman traits. I wandered on a dirt road in the vast desert of Mexico for thousands of years, watching carrion birds devour themselves. I ate dirt and drank my piss. I vomited daylight and wondered what I could offer to a vile world full of hells and cunts full of fever and longing. At the end of the day, struck by contagion and the visions of God I saw in the distance a cloud of violence that devoured men as it struck out in a garden of mushroom and sky. Both of my hands held the expiration of the physical world. I digressed where the feet of men rarely sensed ground or ether; so complete was my abdication from the human race. The splitting of the atom is the glory of God. I'll journey a thousand years more in search of oblivion, peace, mercy.

Hearts So Strange and Wild

Rise gently
Shedding your murdered body
The ache of tenderness
in your still heart
The throbbing a rope that murderers cling to
and use to climb from the lake of fire
that hides in our slumbering selves

Gather them so close
that you can hear eternal life intoning softly
in the most mysterious of their organs
Hearts so strange and wild
struggle to express their terrifying love
As they unfold to receive love
they become both pollinated and pollinator
Spreading their dark seeds
in remote places