Parrot squatting on your throne
Mentally captured are you?
Foot-soldered concrete, rooted in basement alone.
Corporeality relinquished.
Fictive molecules revolt.
Soliloquies like apparition
Of a long forgotten ghost.
Lonely solipsist, sculpture squatting in a cell!
Anchored pedometry, concrete throne (concrete throne).
Posture vocal like your inflective prose.
Tethered philosophy
Encrypted psychiatry.
Powers of rendition on
A capricious world, a pawn.
Monet inclination
For thoughts spoken never heard.
Tragic auditorium for one Pygmalion soul.
Manas in transcendence through an infinite cosmos.
Destruction (destruction) is the ultimate creation, so your children don’t regret.
Like those to their divine inventions.
Like all to the planet.
So, lonely solipsist, what typography floods my eyes?
Bituminoid lucidity, in trafficked lumens, hides.
What would happen if your trompe-l’oeil was exposed?
One brain stacked up eight heads high in perfect proportion.
Gravid knowledge crush the skulls in savage rebellion.
Design by observation, translated erudition
So many creators cognitively collide like a pride of pan-psychics.
Upon whom redounds this insistent obloquy?
Destruction (destruction) is the ultimate creation, so your children don’t regret.
Like those to their divine inventions.
Like all to the planet.
Power of observer granted .
Power of intent.
(The painter’s brush, the writer’s words)
The sinners repent.
I declare this pen a syringe injecting foreign brains.
Obligor objectivist base knowledge on fiction anyways.
Pass the blame like nested russian dolls, inertly decaying.
Smite the epiphenomenalism!
Erase those bound to faith!
