Transmigration Drawl

A brutal stroke
ðat raven wings
cut by bestial angels,
so ðe paþ ðey sign
i erase.

I´m a zealot deitized
off cyanide
and a skeptic dogmatized on tax,
disarming mammal love
wheðer gaðered wiþ massacres.

Oh ðis emaciated men
i deck ðeir eking asceticisms
wiþ nice chimeras
coming out
ðe sepulchre in brambles.
Ðeir scarlet flowers
burn me in bluest blossomless fire.

Upon speed of darkness....
and its silky ragged humanity
gives birþ a cocoon
of black filaments,
so is for i want deny
one by one of my lies,
and make every drone
regret ðe þings we undo
on sloþful tone.

Every word tauting
for my pummeling erratums,
every caught idea is made
juggernaut by my
brain´s addendum.

I want to knit
wiþ menless þreads
on adamant misanþropia,
hatred brawling ðat þought is.
How could not i hate ðem
if i love ðem?
How could i do all ðat
þrough ðem to myself?

Upon speed of darkness,
where is þronged
ðe anachorite´s shadow?

Aztlán, enero de 2007.


D.A.dá.