Flight From the Centre

now destiny describes us,
now the shrike strikes us, we
are at the zero hour, “lonely I!”
Sanat Kumara knocks, his home
white waste, empty road, bring death,
bless us all, Saturn waiting, painted lock,
shadow shelter, child’s whistle, weak warning,
fire falling, the first telemetric people, pure data,
angel’s overseer, fast future, despot, “render our gold
to blood!”, energy, duck’s dance atop the pond, pale mirror
of the soul—exactly—space wait, inner prison, soul mate,
deliver the children, hero’s plunge, perfect lobotomy, woe
to my worthless shepherd, Azazel, cooling solid centre,
assent, decision, dopamine, infolding, outwatch our
sad captivity.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio


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