Painkiller display,
sinking feather in a play,
at the darkest corner
of a wondrous border.
Where people see blank spaces
we watch galactic stages,
the milliards of pages
of bedevilled broken sound.
Behind the mirror rain
in a futuristic frame
lies Orion’s belt
tight around your neck.
As your chest falls flat
Saturn rings mark the spot
where colours pick the lock
and disperse the starry fleet.
Hostage viles of creation
flesh burnt from saturation
blood of pixels in her veins
the legend goes; she still awaits.
A little Cthulu reader
in search of a lost dreamer,
conjoined in paralysis
the poets of analysis.
Veins of puppets bitten
infused with “demand”
grant you happy pauses
for the end is yet to come.
Let’s admire the light pollution,
come on, it’s high resolution.
Look how it shines for you,
lovers of the latest hue.
“Only you can make me laugh”
“Hold on I’ll call you back”
“We can hitchhike the universe”
Couldn’t that be a start?
