by Matt Ronquillo
Stagnancy deactivated
like psycho-Texas-era-revival-mode.
Like using the same preposition
too much to describe everything.
Fuck wasting time.
The bone-encased
anti-homing device
haunts itself relentlessly
with a dark between the beams
that looms inward perpetually,
that already went and ran inside
and side-wound around
my well intentioned output
with prior behavior in tow.
Now I’m keeping that stealthy hate of mind
split-stored in two suitcases
which study the back of my head from the floor.
The frontal lobe is either dead
or resurrected by this foreign window I am facing;
a potential prism
to try again to change a single strolling
strand of light into a stronger diffraction splaying back.

0 thoughts on “Ran

  1. “Bidibidibidi…take me to your leader…i mean your 40 litre.”
    This techno sci-fi space poem inculcates my dynamic CPU with the power to RAM thru the squalid-bum doldrums of my robot-human survival patterns in this questionably worthwhile battery-life.
    Very well executed use of theme here permeating from alpha to omega–You are the next TimeLord, sir!
    I really appreciated the similes at beginning of poem and the word-play later on: “stealthy hate of mind” from ‘healthy state of mind’–you borrow the ‘s’ from state and give it to healthy by taking away the ‘h’–you lyrical gangster and astronomically syntax-manical badass! hahaha!
    Extrapolation of reason-for-being sentiment within the context of machine orientation rings true of this post-modernist poem program that not only runs–it ‘ran’.
    Have fun in Spain! Call me if you need bail-money!

  2. Thanks fellows. Glad it struck something with three of the best out here. Quasi you’re an absolute machine on the comment board. I’d buy a special edition print version of those alone.

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