Head on fire like ghost rider
the confidence of a leather jacket
whipping chains of hyperdrive
direction? Everywhere.
my heart is on an F1 track, racing
slicing the air that usually
holds me from destiny
This feeling that I’m sure
is snapping my synapses
fusing ends into clasps
dilating my pupils
zooming my senses, in and out
has me embracing:
-adversity as ammunition
-anxiety as premonition
-apathy as vexation
life.
I need this feeling
like Marvin Gaye’s sexual healing
In my muscle memory
The imagination of visual representation
Is Groot, a Flerken, Ben Hargreeves, Canary, Secrets
I feel hunger like nitrous
and slow music, सुकून (peace)
Disruption like electricity and
intensity like fire
I am the dragon that exhales it
Actualization like Neo
and the power of the Sun
in the palm of my hand
I am righteous
I am justice
I am poetry in motion
I am enlightened and epithetic
I am trembling for change
And shooting
for the stars.
The Manic Touch may elude me
in the forward-step of time
Words will fall short of implement
and this high, this mania
may remain singular and unrepeatable
-a footnote
and so I prepare
biddance of farewell
to this stranger
and our whirlwind romance
it’s my own adjustment bureau
I attract, not chase.