The Great Deceiver

I will donate my head I will uncover the seams I will acknowledge my dust as silver elixir to be fed to the masses I’ve never been more dead than now more a product of misspent music halted at the border flicking seeds sent through a blister in the wall I plant movements that carry all the king’s men through a crack in the planet where monkeys sink into a song their fathers grew on filaments of language & certain birds are mad to hunt a spectrum of only one meaning where handmade clouds sound free from ligament released beyond bounds offering steam to relax gem I can float here combing my hair into waterfall I am a human fly wings slick with telepathic goo an archive of earth piled on my back This is theater ... so please assume the role of curtain I am the director of this fuzz a tardy imago: the result of clandestine flare When we returned to your house we noticed that it wasn’t there so we built a human pyramid without flesh without internal radar or private song a formation known to drain the color of black suns and toward this stone we lean where birds are higher than sapphire mammatus where we speak of things mouth-less, bare