Hypomania

 

“Time forks perpetually towards innumerable futures.”

— Jorge Luis Borges

 

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future science do justice to man!

& his eclectic head film noirs/

o coy amygdaloid glory!

 

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after ten thousand orbits

in empathic coma/

we’ll win them over/

our uncouth alien

soul dwellers

 

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as lodestone summer soldiers/

in torment/

try to blot out

perfunctory ghost wars of the mind/

in hypomanic thrust

 

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those slugs & toads went raw

like damp new blood –

fresh wounds form nucleus of dynamic resolve!

like nodal points/

of no return

 

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like isolated black figures/

in empty streets/

all shiny & crisp at the edges/

absently pre-psychotic – :

 

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 cut to/

clear picture of changeable face –

& in the silent shadow

your modular smile – – –

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***

Peter Bies © 2010

***

 

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