january 2021




...although occasionally a few vowels

a few consonants do leak out


the abyss fights on in unwavering silence

punching the darkness


for what use is a larynx out here

in this ultraviolet mist


in this immensity that burns

at the back of the throat


what, for that matter, is the use of any vocative sound

if it merely foreshadows oblivion


if its descriptions fail

its nouns turn to pulp


and its adjectives fall apart on the tongue

this language of the vanquished


leaking out

relishing the predator’s mouth


this ultraviolet self

burning in the mist


this larynx surrounded by flames

by no ordinary transcendence...






...feed me, said the wolf

for I am the hunger, the insurrection


that devours you

the visceral thug


who sits and leans against your heart

spitting at strangers


at migrants that belong nowhere

all of them lovers of damnation


who push their wet, socialist pussies

right into your face


and they eat babies – fact

the whole world can watch them online


chewing the tiny, soft bones

how, therefore, can we be strong


if we inaugurate paedophiles

if we allow cripples to breed


strength comes from strength

and there is a fearsome beauty in domination


so come, feed me

love me, so we can be great again...






...every line must touch existence

with a white-hot iron


for the scars thereof will mark the way

to that vast exit


the firmament reeling inside the skull

the firmament that uses jewels for eyes


amethyst for consciousness

then what exactly is this effort to probe


the relevance of quartz

to unearth yet another intuition


that goes nowhere

is it not this curiosity


to always dig through the ashes

to turn over the charred words


as the white, incandescent iron

approaches the face


blistering existence

so how exactly can each line


begin to cauterise an entire world

without touching itself...