A.D. (Part 2)

 “Song of the Kingdom”  (2015)

Mid violet golden lights of early morn

It's near to sing this still small sequence. Here

It is! because the veil has richly torn.

This is the closest It has come all year

along the stages of this still small proof.

Each threshold of inductive proof is clear

after the leap at first, up through the roof;

& as It wakes us, shows us how to steer,

we sense without a need for further leaps.

Desires that are not needful turn to ash.

The stakes are high, the game is played for keeps,

& what I used to be was just a gash!

an open wound! a birthday manimal!

a dying fallen bundle of desires

It gives the coup de grace. My animal

is quite reluctant to give back my fires

as lights, wide open nurturance of height

of presence near, & joy among the briars!

But It decided it would be so, sight

unseen: the Inmost Sunlight which inspires.

“Shockwaves from the Crucifixion” (2016)

As rain drops fall within the sky,

so even joy enfolds a cry;

so bubbles rise within the sea,

foot-dragging shirks behind decree,

a prince of evil swamped by Love;

so doth the hand fit to the glove;

so intercessor named “Guan Yin”;

so interplay of Yang & Yin;

so Jesus Sutras reach the East

with the Nestorians, at least;

Sidharthaism--> Ancient Greece

(great white expanse as Golden Fleece).

A Nameless Dream & Hidden Voice!

In which nor both should one rejoice?

For one converted this Wild West,

the firstborn that Far East at best.

“Jesus’ General Amnesty > your retirement plan” (15-1-16)

But one is even as a Shaker chair

dwarfed by galaxies that rotate there

& superclusters of the same as stars

arranged in constellations. Beyond Mars

gas giants do their duty, organelles. 

Meanwhile, most go for that which strokes & sells

& ye shall know them by this sign: they say

“retirement” “mortgage” “practical” all day.

But “practical” is just the sepulcher

dressed up in alabaster, splashed with myrrh.

One is not better off than on the dole

if one has not done more than heaping coal.

“The atemporal Godhead thought of time” (2016)

So many flourishes, wild whorls, winged cherubim & horns

festoon the Lord God, our Creator’s, work of timely art,

His panoply of giants, penitence & unicorns

that one can scarcely wrap one’s head around it, for a start.

The Lord is atemporal, yet He thought up time & space!

This is the very benchmark of originality:

We couldn’t do that even if our milling minds should race.

One sees the restless artist in His personality:

He tells Hosea to go find a harlot & get hitched,

but also tells the prophet Jeremiah not to marry

(this quite vividly), The narratives were switched

around like swords, a process that one finds, at times, quite scary.

But one is resigned to be calligraphy & scribble;

thanks Him for the scenery, the free will & the kibble.

“Moths sprang round at Linwood Cemetery (2016)

A coil of tussock grassland moths sprang round

Linwood Cemetery. Although sharp wind

sliced through their ranks, 8? straightaway snapped back,

a hornet’s nest of angry rubber bands.

The meander of a single moth or pair

go by ago as two months coil up

two moths amid that marbled blue we breathe

in, then one saw that entire squadron sproing

past crosses toppled & upright then boing

off hills off stage.

“Ah, Mrs. Moon! So nice of you to join us” (2016)

Pale rose moon rose into first blue then purple sky

then changed into an evening dress of shining bone

as spangled Port Hills* lurched from white sarcophagi. 

As one admired it, one realized: I’m not alone!

No, not alone, & they weren’t looking at the moon

but at yours truly. Please have better things to do

when moons are full than staring at one’s blissful swoon,

or anyone’s! Their stares distracted me askew.

I watched my interface. What does one even say 

to people who blurt, oh, a couple hundred words,

a dozen prefab lines, stage Earth’s most boring play?

They are as differentiated as the birds

because they give no thoughtful traction for one’s wheels

& will not speak their living minds or go on spiels.  

*The Port Hills in question are those of Christchurch.

“Big Father is Watching You” (2016)

But in the meantime, everything we do is watched

& everything Big Brother touches ends up botched

like Libya or all those spikes in rates

of cancer all humanity has on their filling plates.

The birds are dying & the fishes in the sea,

& Man cannot fix any of this by decree

nor world-state nor syncretic ideology,

nor yet by cybernetics & technology.

SIN trashed the fertile paradise God gave our kind!

One in ten thousand people even seems to mind.

It couldn’t be coincidence when I discerned

the ‘loss of Heaven’s mandate’ in world histories, learned

an index of this X & Y & realized it was real. 

Sin really does dry up the land & too the commonweal.

“Forgive us, Father, for we’re trained to sin” (2016)

Forgive us Father, for we’re trained to sin 

against your statutes long before we know

quite what is going on, deafened by din

& interaction, reaping what we sow.

We slumbered deeper towards the pit,

and many were the snares we did not see.

So many were the traps we would not get.

So many ways to kill a human flea

defile & thereby steal your gift of time;

& down here this has all been normalized,

or nearly all, as what was once a crime

becomes first normative then formalized. 

Forgive us, Father, for we grope around

& cannot even trust this shifting ground.

“Verse Notes on Nomadic Territorial Explosiveness (2016)

Nomadic territorial religiosity

of Canaan’s conquest Alexander Islam Genghis Khan

explodes like telegraph or fiber optic cables, but

animists (such as the Mongol Horde) or polytheists

(such as Alexander’s or apostate Solomon’s) break

up like a marriage or a fragmentation hand grenade.

Nomadic territorial religiosity

may be a prairie fire like Marxist-Leninism or

a slash & burn bell curve of Rust Belts & fresh markets or

some other coatrack burning coalmine time release snafu. 

“Sin, with reference to the painter Ljuba”( 2016)

“O sing unto the Lord a new song: sing unto the Lord, all the earth!” – Psalm 96:1

The Bible says that we are slaves to sin.

Well, one is much the same as other men, 

in this regard, but can articulate 

the fact that lust is shaped the same as hate

in one’s mind’s eye; it’s also as unclean. 

I will explain exactly what I mean,

but first would like to mention Ljuba’s work --

“Temptations, Afterwards” -- where ‘cthulhus’ lurk,

where what was throbbing is unraveling. 

One mentions this for those whose traveling

is less internal & more visible,

whose consciousness is less divisible 

into compartments & comparisons.

Most horses don’t see their caparisons,

so that is why I’m holding up a glass.

It isn’t just a pretext to be crass. 

It’s why the human male smokes afterwards 

& why it says “unclean & hateful birds”. 

Such pairings are not simply accidents,

& what at first seems simple can be dense. 

Paul says, “[that] which I would not, that I do”.

It’s shaped like the recurrence when we stew

about someone or something, or we lust

about someone or something. So, I trust

the Bible’s psychological insight.

We need not merely believe who know the Light. 

“'True Light That Lighteth Every Man'” (2016)

Dialectical materialist views of history

are the doctrine of four ages taught in ancient mystery

schools without the pesky, overt supernaturalism

which would be unsuited to an age of naturalism,

a procedure Jefferson & Tolstoy follow –

doubting Thomases without a prayer? – who think to hollow

out the Tree of Life then hallow the remaining dead wood

into a totem pole & do the world a world of good 

with minarchist & anarchist ideas that don’t bear fruit –

that is, eternal life; rule over many things -- & loot 

scripture of salvation, thinking they do men a favor.

Libertas binds men the more! Hath their salt lost its savior?

Plato’s daemons fell & tarnished their beloved Golden

Age, seduced the hearts of Socrates & Jung. From olden

days unto modernity, the selfsame writhing snake nest

wrestles with free wills that God designed to choose a house guest.

Why don’t you invite the one whose yoke is not deception?

Jesus christened you with His zinc spark at your conception.

“Simultaneous Verses” (2016)

CERN spastic gestural equivalence

blue hardhats  Gotthard choreography –

Troop preparations in the Baltic states.

Rumors of war in the United States.

Drought in the Horn of Africa, Far East

& India CLICK Toxins have increased

in drinking water.  Toxins fill the air

near busy roads, the air we have to share.

We’re late! Our schedule is just action-packed.

We gotta pivot to the Shanghai Pact.

Alzheimer’s on the rise. Die-offs on coasts

of Vietnam & Chile. Heads on posts

at Raqqa. Swivel to the Caliphate -

No, pi- No, swi—We’re very late indeed.

“Therefore keep watch, because you do not know

the day on which your Lord will come”, He said. *

*Poems written during the A.D. cycle took prophecy too literally, materially, and geopolitically.

“Father Timelessness” (2016)

Father’s consuming fire created us

in His spare timelessness. The Tree of Life

& Branch of Jesse of one Tree of Life

are one. His flaming sword flicks restlessly.

He flings Pleiades into place. The pace

picks up. He hangs the galaxies on strings

like Yule-cum-Christmas lights & knows all men,

yes all of our cognitions & our deeds. 

You know Him in the secret passageways.

The Lord of Everyman & DNA --

who deigned by incarnation of best fit

to speak exactly in the corner -- is

aware of all the ‘Once upon a time

& space’ that He created to a t.

You know Him in the secret passageways

where you admit you don’t know everything.

He ponders every iteration of

temporospatial statuary,

every ensouled terracotta warrior 

wandering the hive of hamster cages --

unimpressed with the Forbidden City,

penguin suits, & all our other rags -- with

an omniscient justice outside time. 

“Shanghaied” 19-11-16 (2016)

In 2012 one set out on a quest 

against a backdrop of declining West,

Eurasian integration, Shanghai Pact’s

emergence from the same & all the rest, 

positioning for temporary pax

& then for war to break the nation-state.

Of course, one did expect a longer wait

before the Russians & the Chinese warmed

relations, but the Ukraine crisis stormed

past; so, one watched it all accelerate,

ignored just-paying-off-my-mortgage men

disgustedly, passed Chinese 3 & then

began to study Russian for a change

while inwardly convicted of one’s sin. 

One realizes that this must all sound strange,

but all of it occurred exactly so. 

One ceased to sleep around with men. Although

that was 9 months before the Day Star’s rise,

He sometimes lightens us before we know.

He watches us with 7 flying eyes.

The Day Star lightens the horizon first, 

perhaps because one might have feared the worst, 

& one is still not sure quite what to make 

of Him, considering He means to break 

us! but the textbook says He quenches thirst. 

The textbook says so very many things.

For instance, there are ladies with stork wings

who carry a lead-shielded harlot far

away & plant her in a fresh Shinar. 

Chimeras even torment with their stings,

though one is still unsure why there’s a goat

fused to the Neo-Hittite one. I note 

that the most controversial two words

yom & aionos – bookend all He wrote. 

I wonder when our Lord will feed the birds.

“Human-Algorithm Interface Dynamics” (2017)

Perspiration soaks X exosoldiers.

Override Staff Sergeant Matthew Carson.

Crickets. Ladies selling them at market.

Left shift. Carson-piercing round fwips past, thwockcks

into a trunk. Restoring manned control.

Staff Sergeant Carson, forward crouch! 2…3….4…

Override Staff Sergeant Matthew Carson:

Halt 3 seconds. Bullet! Bullet… In near

sky above the greenhouse canopy a drone hums,

handling infrared & bullet-tracking streams.

Restore full manua- – Override. Shift right.

Restoring manned control. Mosquito smashed.

Staff Sergeant Carson, forward crouch! Can’t…scratch…itch…

Rally point configuration Delta.

Override Staff Sergeant Matthew Carson.

Squad assumes configuration, rallies

soaked in steaming bush like laundry left out

in a monsoon. General Algorithm

Protocol: three-squad array alignment.

Squads! B! C! Override. Align with A Group. 

“Esquisse Exophonique” (2017)

Cette brume s’entoure autour de nous.

Je sens tissus lointains.

Ces temps tumultueux s'accélèrent.

L’ouragan brumeux de tout changement s'accélère

et je sens tissus lointains.

Le Camp des Saints arrivent  en caravanserai,

la politique génétique, Babylone en spirale.

Parmi l’ouragan brumeux de tout changement

je sens tissus lointains

intemporels s’épanouirent, resplendissants.

“Verse notes on the Metcalf sniper shootings” (2017)

spiked trees

Radical environmentalism’s

“Roadblock. Let me do the talking”

lodge’s conflagration

monkey wrenchers’ caused 115

Earth First!

million dollars’ damage in 3 decades

“Do you have a petrol permit…”

vs 15 million dollars’ sniper

“…for that minivan you’re driving?”

damage from the Metcalf shootings

“No! I mean, I own it” --

(which transpired across about an hour).

“Mother & her children

own that minivan, you waster"

Infrastructure in a crumbling state is

“So, you’re saying” he continued

“But I, no I…!” -- “Quiet, waster while I!”

more significant than infrastructure

“that you are not classified to drive this…”

in a building state; the Luddites of the

“…limited supply of petrol…”

upward slope or peak are not those of the

[Petrol Use & Classifying Edict:

twilight. Neither are the Nihilists, the

Ambulances, Combine Harvesters, & Vigilantes]

“…hereby execute the sentence…”

Nazis, the Anarcho-Communists… For

BANG BANG

coefficients between debt & crumbling

BANG BANG 

infrastructure spot technocracy with crosshairs.

BANG BANG BANG.*

*It's almost as though a popular song were playing in the background.

“Autumn Mosaic” (2017)

Great Power condemnation

of Imperial Japan’s

invasion of Manchuria or Manchukuo

Now, coiled weeks spring in autumn

“Yes we have no bananas”

1949 1st Lightning Superpowers

1989 The Berlin Wall falls

Solar panels crumble underfoot

Sole-superpower period

Great Britain joins the

Asian International Investment Bank.

This triptych – 3 Great Powers -- Russia China & America --

rotates around a block of stumbling

as near Sol rotates around in Uncreated Light.

Flies of the marketplace buzz round one.

“Light ariseth in the darkness”

“Are you meditating?” Flies alight on contemplation

as on rotting meat. They buzz sharply

“What did you just do?”

& sniff in disapproval at the hopeless help these days. 

Buzzing coagulates in “How Are You Fine” clots

of dream home & retirement plan. 

These are the drying templates known as sanity;

“All of my springs are in Thee”, L'Éternel des Galaxies

No higher definition can exist 

without the intervention of that Uncreated Light. 

A covert psychopath seems very “well-adjusted to a sick society”

to fallen stoats in waistcoats Game of Twister ‘ever after’ pigs in wigs.

Fastidiously cornerstoneless templates will not understand. 

For how will people made of fairy gold dream dreams?

thus dream dream mansions? understand then new men

Onan as the converse of Elisha 

in the first place? Old boys squee at one another

in the valley of the shadow then go down in flames.

They idolize retirement in the valley. Unsuccessfully. 

Sometimes the melting masques slip & the other species

that inhabit Homo ecosystem peek out of the valley

too intently. Then I see a sculpture of behaviors,

interactions, plumbing, wiring -- suddenly holography

It says ‘I shaved’

& horizontal interlocking.  Ticking tocking ticktock ticking

coiled weeks spring in autumn. 

I open up my model of the Earth

and as so often lately, find myself

above the comma curling continent,

home of shrill shrinking Venezuelans, 

& wonder if the east of South America

I say “I groomed the horse”

will Balkanize… Regime change suddenly. GONG CHONG

My mind’s eye flicks to Rapanui car door slams

flicks over to Peru & Chile then primordial primeval “… not in service…”

back aback in time to Chachapoyas, Viracochas, beep! beep! beep! beep!

spiraling to life! I AM ALIVE honk! honk!

within disintegrating matter. I’m HOOOOOOOONK

modelling imperfect storm in all directions. CHGONG GCHONG

Saying 42: “Be passerby”

“It’s a seedling factory, not a funhouse!” (2017)

There’s a backdoor in your mind

worth more than any cozy sugar cube.

Dendritic overlays of best fit shoots

don’t have shortcomings of AI or men;

would undermine this Planet of the Apes with victory.

He that clothes Himself with timelessness as

with a garment primed that backdoor in you

as a jeweler sets a stone. If you were

in a seedling factory, what might you do differently

among sneer-snarls, bulge-buzzard eyes, steep stares?

among men’s unmanned mannequins? not wearing clothes?

“Give me an A! CLAP CLAP Apokatastasis” (2017)

Two men will be coding at the cubicle.

The one will call The Storm on all the world

a perfect storm Thank Friday that it’s Friday Ha!

The other one will say away a ways off in dense day

this Tribulation period Grande Tribulation Velikaya Skorb

This storm Give me an A! CLAP CLAP Apokatastasis

of demographic skewing, geometric automation,

crumbling infrastructure, exponential debt,

both Sun and Moon’s obeisance & that of the eleven stars

food shortage, water shortage, precious metals shortage

“they shall go no more out of the temple”

cancerous contamination of groundwater, air, seawater,

“and the Lamb shall be the light thereof”

(Sun Moon 11 Stars of Heaven bowing)

is upon technocracy

“…arsenal” (The Sun) -- Then, Insurrection of the Moon?” Spring 2017

'Calexit is to Aztlan as a peel is to its fruit'

puts one in mind of 1947 in Punjab.

News from the Grecian, Spanish, & Italian fronts is grim.

It’s happening in Vladivostok, happening in Minsk,

in Moskva, everything just happens happily;

but chargers dangle from the walls like shrunken heads.

Dendritic balance in equilibration

rises in the foreground. In the background:

ageing demographics --> baby factories or migration --

States’ reconstitution & recalibration,

like King Midas but with diasporas:

Palestinians, Armenians, Marwari, Afrikaners, Everybody

Everywhere Los Angeles-Manhattan

mirrored -- thesis synthesis antithesis -- Alt-Right + Red Guards 

= center-junta? “hammer of the whole world”?

Barcelona Declaration -- Coudenhove-Kalergi --

Barbara Lerner Spectre “over Europe” Sharia Patrols –

birth rate declining in Islamic heartland, globally --

Nordrhein-Westfalen cache (The Guardian) –

not deportation nono but totalitarian

centralisation YES! YES! YES! “ten thousand weapon

arsenal” (The Sun) -- Then, Insurrection of the Moon?

is rain drops not yet hail stones inasmuch

as Schengen Movement ends: internal passport system like

a classified directory of home lines

bends, trucks ramming into last men, fire doors

slam… thus water torture then the typhoon

till entangled, torn hearts, hear hope herein

left out of their blueprints & their speadsheets

hunkered, tangled in a tingling near year

Bracque violin of murmur amid clamor

clamber limber up the modelling rejected

of the Builders of the Temporary

Tower’s teetering like elephants in

The Temptation of Saint Anthony in

suites of swipe & swoop without disease.

Without, disease & want. Went out among

our poverties; some poverties within

our server bay organics, some without.

Why even let them in one’s server bay?

East Asia doesn’t. Hermits don’t. So why??

Birds will be birds in branches of Yggdrasil.

"Notes: 'perplexity of nations'” (2018)

X is to x squared is to x cubed as

WW1 to WW2 to WW

3 as League of Nations is to U.N.

is to WorldGov’s a scenario much

in one’s crosshairs, like one’s gray hairs or one’s earlocks

or the physiology of sex as

necessarily relates to Soul. For

in our mount we’re different lamp, unwelcome.

As “a great door and effectual opened” up,

so many adversaries in one’s mount,

about, a bit like sour bunting bones

and dizzy flies, and then there’s falling down

among skyscrapers,skies, stock market floors

a blinded horse to keep one busy bee

below. Among the beelines for baloney

we don’t juggle three but mesazoic,

power bills, balls, “dead men’s bones”, bots, bother,

faces, tones. We juggle 1 bajillion,

often without mercy; even though it’s

mass society & we should have compassion

on accelerating jugglers; much as

we accelerate ourselves, expanding

universes twining in us. Great apes

desperately encumber crumbling twilight.

Sometimes 12 balls. Sometimes 47!

Oops it happens. Something blows the breaker.

Billionaire: a plausible deniability

autonomous appurtenance, like North Korea.

Anymore, these proxies tangle like extension cords.

Word is, among dystopians: transmitters

broadcast model citizen John Jacob Everyman

to everybody! smart dust searchable: fantastic

paranoia! but remote-controlling roaches was

sufficient leaven. So we got the loaf we cooked up

in the burning labyrinth, well done! As robots race

against our exoskeletons, we hedge our bets. We

talk of blockchain, debt apocalypse, apocalypse in

general, & the physiology of sexual acts,

aware that a distractobot might well at any time

dilute communication with mere questionnaire. But one

digresses. Now, where was one? ‘Physiology of Sex,

Relation to Religiosity of Same’: some have

a married face as though one flesh. One wonders if it’s wrong

for instance to take tissue samples, with consent of course.

Here, have a look. Just LOOK how similar those lovebirds look.

Perhaps one can just know it as a player throws a ball –

without equations – but would lose these iterated opportunities

to witness to fissiparous modernities of Him.

“If 'Don Juan’ Then the Prussic acid” (2018)

Byron was right to be annoyed 

at Shelley’s choice of “Ariel”:

 which sank in seething sea. “How long

do you intend to be content”

his doppelgänger said to him

along the terrace, terrified him!

among centuries. Was given

“Skylark”! Shelley’s way of thanking

God was… (Well, “Life” didn’t “Triumph”.)

Nietzsche wrote <<The antiChrist>>

& then baa ztt! insane. The brain

may be a blasted fig tree or

an emperor grazing grass, a grim

end/interlude continuum. So,

if you have a speck of talent,

be afraid! Perhaps you won’t be

torn apart, Abdul Alhazred

in the marketplace, a horse of

course of course, a blasted weeping

or Nebuchadnezzar the King!

“Thou shalt not forgot thy PPE” 22-3-19

And “fire”, or how to make

the flame-retardant raiment

came down from on high,

consumed who would not

yet strap into their protective gear.

To wear a “Babylonish garment”

piles on coal! and that is why

who stoked the furnace died!

For “jealousy [doth] burn like fire”

and magnanimity is deadly to the dead.

“Brachiating in te akeake, the eternal tree” Winter-Spring 2018

In the beginning, Good said “Let there be enlightenment”.

Orange lichen grows on shingled roofs of Ōtautahi town.

FOG SIMILAR SIGN PET [ting] boils up Avon side, lip.

Orange lamps ripple on black water of the Ōtākaro.

Without omniscience, we cannot trust

our very selves, nor yet be truly just.

Thus, “Let your eye be single that your body fill with light"…

a voice exactly in the corner said, upon an height.

It opens you up to possession, they hear-say

who said ‘He hath a de-vil’ way back in the day.

“Light of the World"! Light light! "Father of lights"!

Column of Flame that guides through desert nights!

the outmost Sun & inmost Son... one-pointed mind...

the reason WHY we're humankind.

Expansive, almost there! then falling

foreground here: One clambored up from growing ground.

One’s bookbag hung upon a broken branch,

FOG SIMILAR [to] SMOKE DIVIDE LIGHT HERE

swaying. Hold it, swivel, hang. Alert all

sides night light mist lavender-grey orange white

BEAUTIFUL IT VERY QUIET STILL CALM

GOLD. Why, any limb draped restful eases

one’s primeval hang! Refractions softly of lined lamplights…

egg-yolk blur-edged risen-hugely jack o' lantern Luna...

I LEARN ASL EGG FROM <<SHAPE WATER>>

AND NZSL SIGN EGG VIC D BOOK

Something-must-be-done about this numbing fork!

but all dendrition dreamt discomfort.

How one envies orange orangutans, cream

gibbons! One would dwell in branches in

a proven prism warehouse, and glad glass

about it would enclose close orchard. One

would swing from shelf to health, watch silvereyes

scarf fat! But I’m not covetous, more in it

for the necessary model in the middle.

Ahasuerus! Ahasuerus sitteth on the throne.

OUR SOLAR SYSTEM NOT FAR FROM G-A-L-A-C-T-I-C CENTER 

...getting little numb in the extremities.

Detached from cold, accessing model Earth.

WORLD SITUATION NEED FRESH OCTOPUS.

The bourgeois/apparatchik heads of institutes

& enterprises cannot comprehend

this pullulating mass of rhythms, braids

of trends, but do pretend to understand

uneasily, do ratchet up A.I. “DO!” Necessity

of simultaneous and penetrating modelling, with base.

Then dreamt of rooms and faces that were not defined.

Next day: still silvereyes they welcomed one and willingly 

did sup with one above the kōwhai known as “Luigi’s” where

cat can’t catch clutch; and stared at songthrush brown suspicious 

but I still don’t think he/she, afraid then: searching perching look.

PROCEED WITH OCTOPUS. So, bundling

in the form of symbols' vast swathes’ data

download… Take for instance body is to

soul as Babel Tower Babylon the

Great to Babylon within your heart,

horse recognised for mount & yet “prepared

against the day of battle”, is to many

aggregative trends without the soul’s clay

envelope. Not the one without the other.

Suddenly we’re in a bucking bronc

mid mud mode muppets: what to do, how much,

too much ado, sand storm: had habits such

as ignorance, sharp temper tantrums, pride,

depreciation, bragging, gossip, hate;

bile, bucking broncos’ brain brawn heartstring 

brandishings, not yet transmuted in the fires

(Elisha’s oxen & the yoke thereof)

apokatastasis of all things with God,

of ALL things! do you hear? in Heaven and on Earth:

Son! Shadrach, Meshach, & Abednego!

that “shirt of flame” and “a consuming fire”

beyond the sensate stream of Babylon

in Promised Landfall’s Milk-and-Honeyed Light.

I do.

“Octopus: the Necessary Model” (2019)

Мне нужно модель мира с языками.

“...didst weaken the nations” -- Isaiah

Whither the White West? SIREN

Whither everybody? DOOF DOOF

Whither every ethnically homogeneous

land? O diasporisation! Welcome!

Welcome to our home phyletic tree!

Genetic politics of borders

represent with colourblind

initiatives left, right, and blue,

and blooming of progressive algorithms,

and among us children holding signs up

for their masters in the distance.

Looks like the coagulation of

a tower breaks apart and then

returns much larger, but one can’t

be sure among these sharp, shear, edgy edges,

marches, frontiers, fresh grounds, tentacles’

tangle. As with tower, so with

octopus, a microcosm &

a model. “…part of iron &

part of clay…” (from book of Daniel)

Modelling as simultaneously &

penetratingly constructive strands

like kudzu by an interstate

on power pylons: Necessary

Model: simultaneous

rotation of green tentacles

among known nations. Web-bots process Earth

like stratigraphic columns with word

base, like Jesus’ 7 flying eyes.