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In a private static charged hell
copper plate contrast
cesium burns,
sprinkled with acid rain.
Carried linear
on 60 hertz pulsar carriers
to send white pain,
almost eclectic,
sparkling through dermic illusions
that I cannot escape.
Redemption,
searching absolution,
inquisition's glowing iron.
To scream shock waves,
oscillator spikes
of pure energy.
Piercing as noise,
compressed
to clarity,
to signal.
And I pray,
Please,
clean this polluted
neuron web.
Strip me to the bone,
rebuild again.
Burned clean,
deconstructed,
welded anew,
I will insert
my Phoenix heart,
electrocuted back to rhythm,
wrapped in gossamer
and cotton wool.
To resume it's duties,
once again.
- COMMENTS
Mia Moorealmost 20 years agoTIG, or is it MIG, I prefer .035 flux core, melded to my inner soul, brings out the lightning rod in me baby
WickedEvealmost 20 years agoJust letting you know that I read it. I don't know what esle to say. lol I like it. I think I'm still aborbing it while the crackling in my head dies down. :)
