Rapture, Polarized by Brett Jones

Rapture, Polarized

 

The air was wet with tadpoles,

the night heady with flame.

A broken staircase

yearned footfall.

 

Candle ate moth / Dark ate light.

 

Ten-thousand magnetic steeples

reversed poles and pulled

a rusted chain of dissidence

into hell’s gate with nitrous hiss.

 

Light ate dark / Bug ate zapper.

 

Petrified earth cried:

“Sky, what has entered me?”

nothing had penetrated rock before,

nothing ever burned by magnified glass.

 

Tomorrow:

Flaccid oceans.

Highway clots.

Tattooed eyeballs.

Opiate mountains.

 

Brett Jones

 

Brett Jones is a casual admirer of many things, but never a hobbyist.

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