The Glitch

 

We were younger and better

when they killed the lights

and you were lost in the static

of the formless and the pure.

 

 

...of things to come

The ghost's song

attacked the shrouded

and decayed infinity

while we visited friends

and sought refuge in a future that awaited us,

then vanished

electrified and glowing neon black,

like an intruder's lullaby.

 

 

Kingdom Nocturnal

 

The caged warm body, a stillborn nomad

Warping like carrion

Held prisoner by unmerciful hallucinations

Toothless and dancing

Counting sheep and slipping the noose

while the veil of melancholia emancipates the void.

 

From above,

the fragile Gemini observes all

with weak flesh and lambs' breath,

adoration for none but the moth that kisses the burning crown with liquid fire contempt.

 

They ignore one another

yet remain mindful of their colonies collapsing within the seven invisible walls,

silent in their mutual amusement.

 

And below,

the caged warm body, the stillborn nomad dreams of mournful goodbyes never spoken,

of primitive beasts creeping against the dawn,

blanketing the acres,

celebrating like liberated peasants.

 

On the horizon,

the flower of the Apocalypse presents its petals

as the sky begins to scream.

 

 

Cannibal Dusk

The nihilist lived in the third-person,

Morningstar's kerosene on the nightmare of endless waves,

the Utopian ritual.

 

Saurian

Widowed serpent

 

masquerading and blaspheming,

ingesting and mothering,

 

a once rancourous sentinel

now an apathetic warden on her final day.

 

Adam Nagy

 

Adam can be reached at anagy851@comcast.net.