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...