Orphan Ontology (an obituary for father time & mother earth)
swap the snapping turtles for shadow puppets
it’s Plato’s cave all the way down
shimmering hexagonal revelations
stream through my Dimethyltryptamine daydream
out of my eyes unfurled the room
& then the world was birthed from my womb
faint as a whisper, yet haunting
a spectre lingers in the ether
heavy charcoal clouds hanging over me
under orange smoke, I pray
in dusty days of this drought-stricken
Eleusinian mystery
where the flowers which you painted in the spring
have turned a pale shade of grey disarray
a black hole sun hovers where the superlunary
ought to be
& i find myself lost with insomnia
seeking aletheia on a polar night
stumbling around the thorny maze of my own creation
in the tattered pair of shoes
painted by Vincent van Gogh
in that little ice age
Nietzsche’s demon spoke the cursed words
spelling out my Sisyphean eternal recurrence
to carry an acacia cyclops cross
sprawled across the breadth of my back
crafted by my clumsy hands
splintered & bloody as they deserve to be
for letting you slip through
when my skies were still blue
