Amorphous
Amorphous
Your jaw sinks into clenched dreams
Subordinate tongue squirms
Screams into confines of logic
To the void, echoless and mettlesome
Condoning worth, of whom, for
Whatever reward that sashays
Your person to a palladium of
Prestige. “I can tell the difference,”
You swear because
The gradient can tell you’re
Unaware of your soul’s caromed
Salvation: born only out of sycophantic
Severity: dealing melodies outside
Your atrophy, a contrast lost to
Supersaturation: for this malady,
You fear no future consequence
So your eyes rant, closing, about
Sirenic radios and all their
Prognosticators: prepping for doom.
Though you find a hygge in the temerity
Of static and perfunctory rules
You have no choice but to
Adrenalize the phatic phantoms—
they’re getting offers for your
Nuanced and intrinsic
Confluence, an influenced looking
About the servile scale.