Contortionist thoughts
Never stop twisting
Digging
Burning flags of pagan review
With unholy Catholic fire

Purity lies
On the lowest dip
Not the spine
Of the homo erectus
Licking the sun.

Cannot anyone see their suicide
By the logic of the ray?
Madmen ride roller coasters.
And the lines never intersect.

Contortionist thoughts.

Breathe the air produced
And suffer in its toxicity
Produce the air breathed
And toxicity suffers.

I enjoy Biohazard.

Death
Wears combat boots
And eats space food
From tubes…
Survives on the dried blood
Of a decomposing leaf.

Of paper.
Of print.
Life struggles
To sprint,

Basks in contortionist thoughts.

And when the seamen
Jump overboard
Into the arms of their mermaids
The ships remain.
A husk of reality.

Shall we bend?
Or shall we pretend that thought
Has limitation?
Geometry sucks the dew
From the spinning moon.
I’ll harness a space wave
And ride the electron cyclotron
Frequency
Of contortionist thoughts.

Contortionists are freaky.

©Jen2010 11-8