Transparent flesh-sacks of
speaking as if possessing thought
staring into the smokescreens
deaf creatures
Speak on,
your words of nothing
regurgitate the fallacy
dream on,
your borrowed hopes.
Walk on
as decaying skin falls away
shed, like that of the snake.
Unlike the legless wonder
created in ‘His’ image
of unoriginality
Shed your humanity
close your eyes
and see.
Give birth to thought
create new life
these are the cries of the visionary.
drowned out by deafening roar
of monotone droll
repeat, skip, repeat.
Hear ye not, the wailing death-cry
of holy, impure, perfect reason.
Turn a blind eye
to consciousness
see only what is shown.
Pedestrian presentations
of noteworthy nothings
as we follow in step
marching to a singular rhythm
count the hours
the false flesh denies itself
returning to the Dirac sea.

© Melissa Black, 2015 All rights reserved.


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