2 Star Motel #4

Between the threads
of time and space,
where nothingness resides;

An empty catacomb of prayer.

The echoes
of a faceless
bride, transcribed.

An annihilation
of particles; seismic
shifts & an oracle’s
propaganda,
make me drift
in thought:

Where eyes are
clean with tears,
and folds in time
and space bring back
deceased memories.

2 Star Motel #2

In the absence
of my lobotomy,
I see strange devils.

Stoplights.
Tall grass & open fields

Through which sunshine fades.

My womb, my
opened tomb,
venting manifold
computations; enumer-
able & blind. Number
preceding death, preceding
misinterpretation.

I see the fool played in part,
by my unconscious & other.

2 Star Motel #1

When God performs the
ultimate pattern combination,
and all our stars forecasting
are fallen from the sky,

And we are death,
walking out among
our brethren,

Becoming isosceles strangers.

Nuclear holocaust mitigation,
apocalyptic triangulations,
no more quarantines.

But boundless in this surface-deep
sarcophagus, the starry sky
unfolds to quench our thirst

For the rose’s prick.