Doors in the backhand slap
lid's inertia of white motion
yellow dipped supermoon
over the dome of death
yanking highways
out of the obnoxious sky
planting dagger seeds
in a sea of soil
flag's metaphysical flesh
ain't worth shit.

Posts on the way to ascending cloud
with a love of violent spirits,
and they with me dancing
and raving fake light,
and the evil of them beauty,
and my own evil beautiful as a jewel,
and the water pulsing in the middle planet,
and the others pulling.