Revolution Of The Woke © Surazeus 2023 06 07 While driving highway past your empty homes I feel your energy vibrate from doors that never open wide for wistful wind as if our sentimental tales record events more strange than mad king on the moor who cradles dolorous pride in his arms. When I drink from fountain of the blind horse, halfway up sad mountain of laughing ghosts, my hair sprouts into long vines of pungent grapes that taste metallic from lachrymal lust so we pray somber to indifferent Earth for salvation with sanguine honesty. Till Aisling asks me with tremulous voice to lead her revolution of the woke I float in dreamy mist of eager hope that humans may survive apocalypse with blessed assurance of naked rage because we exercise conceptual choice. Each prophet standing on the public stage, who reads riddles with literary voice, declares holy war against urban sprawl while Grendel drinks beer with complacency that laughing skull of Hamlet will compose new constitution for our global state. Though I am broken by life circumstance I run around race tracks nine thousand times till my heart turns to stone at sudden glance of love Medusa translates to sweet rhymes since I disappear from each photograph when Jesus returns on clumsy giraffe. While Bacchus lounges on tattered divan, ignoring rusty sword of Damocles that dangles from Sistine Chapel of faith, I program new world view with secret code from song of ocean waves that kiss cliff rocks which proves climate change redesigns our minds. Since tornadoes discuss theology with corporate towers in vast city maze about soul salvation through works of faith we must ignore poverty and disease by offering thoughts and prayers to the bereaved who clutch bodies of children killed by guns. So I wander home in my shiny car hidden in the screaming hills of nowhere where deathless mother in long yellow dress plays chess with Minerva to win my heart because I disappear in words of books the not-yet-born will study in high school.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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