What We Chose

Reflections of mangled confidences
In incandescent words
Of inevitable losses
Those who sought redemption
From repudiated horrors
Of untimely hours
In muted reveries;
Vaporized voices of intangibilities.

Airtight metal doors locked;
Unresponsive to patterned codes
Of likely misconstrued rhetorics;
Of queasily relinquished prides;
In quizzical encumbrances
In unrequited diminishing vortices.

Anthropomorphically weighed physics
Of bleakly styled truths
Or exquisitely chiseled fallacies.
Where comforted comorbidities
Of mythological redundancies
And existential deities,

Spouting extrications of love’s yearnings
Hopelessly behind those locked doors
In layered inquiries of reality, prophecies
And connected scales of measured precisions
Of ethically disapproved pursuits;
Pierced valves of barely perceived incisions.

Here’s a secret,
Morality is whatever I wanted it to be.


A Billion Pins

Jumping into
A pile of
A billion pins
Is guaranteed to be painful,
I’d imagine,
Some scratching,
Some would puncture,
Breaking skin.
The unlucky
Could lose their vision
But most wouldn’t come close,
Remaining in the distance.

I pity the one who says,
“I’ll jump back in later,
With weakened skin,
Because someone
Might have said
There could be
The loch ness monster
At the bottom of that pit.”

Even if
Treasure was guaranteed
To be discovered.