Thursday, March 10, 2016

3 poems || Rus Khomutoff

Untitled
 

Modernity is a fable
like the spongy vapors
that rise from the earth
cracked by hot rains
carousels of distinction
on a gnostic highway
bulletins of divine inexistence
quantum collisions gone berzerk
wonderland of escape velocity



Atomic Petals
for John Pursch

All you nobodies worshipping the
mysteries of creation
stockpile of silent okays
and circadian rhythms
beautiful twists of primitive innocence
the dreamcreature missed the rigidity
of assumption
charred hindsights that
blitzkrieg like precision weapons
sybaritic sparkling points and
ramshackle chords


What Is the Future? The Future Is Now
 

Short lived euphoria
in a dynamite death chair
blunt and boisterous contradictions
as flitting glimpses of grace
jarring anagrams of upstream DNA
brazen moxie
cursory way biomes
emerging as fashionable blessings
soul of serene praxis

underneath manic seas

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