Megalodon

· ADRIAN VINO ·

January 29, 2018

Countless tears fall from empty heavens cutting through the code, the nexus ripped and shredded, its invisible ribbons drape above my watery ceiling and sink hanging heavy, swinging right then left imitating the immortal jellyfish

Graciously gravid and gargantuan in the choking gulps of a million depths under the sea, I approach with crashing cymbals and thrashing thunder—The O Fucktuna—nightmarish scenic cantata composed of medieval chants in bombastic  brutality; whilst lacerating other lesser life forms, I fuck the fickleness of fortune and waste the wastrel who only dreams of wealth, the ephemeral noxious nature of a dwindling life, jubilant in the joy that may come in the return of Spring

 

Great Whites see themselves in me

I see old almost forgotten me in Great Whites

And I summon thy pleasures unknown, lost pugilistic perils with placid guise in the draining shapes of gluttonous gambling to distract the mortal mind from the luxury of lust

 

I will not lament the wounds that Fortune deals for Fortune deals not for me

Dance instead on the severed heads of all my foes and feigning friends

My thoughts like spies on land like Maenads among the forest flowers

Trampling past villages and chewing through men and seething inside a frantic fire

 

Once I swam in lakes and more than once

In the shape of a thin calm and quiet brown boy

Naked along snakes

Past dead rodents   Past human debris  Away from just another brick in the walls and homes and paved streets

 

With eyes of cool and hard white like marble statuesque chiseled and charged, I vibrated in the macrocosm universe that was my human vessel, my veins all roads like dormant whores that lead my puerile heart to Rome

 

Emperor of the world

Pale monarch within

Sovereign seraph

 

Allies sidewinding slightly behind, vigilant, venal and vindictive—fierce notes in the opus of the mechanism that is the symphonic organ of oblivion

Imperial guards

Fiends of shared philosophy

 

I no longer remember the boy

I hardly think of the Great White

Except for when I’m hungry

 

and out for a swim

 

 

January 31, 2018

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