Suffrage

It was the feast of woman; elopes a sustained attainment, a brithy baglama of vivisection; this brute chord aligning. Sinews greet langour, a vestament of lit dams. Ritual omen of opal jeers, a sway of ransoming/ like children at a bathhouse usurping breaded blood. Today, a fallow knife gorged Hermes again, the resin fell like lakes of dust; an ashy welt of bluish flames. O’ splendor: this an enchantment of attrition, how many non plus worm-tongued niggers buried themselves, brought a hovel of krises braying in an order of hegemony. Night, this ubiquitous summoning; pray tell fires of egress where god brought down the sacred cow and the Jews were burning krsna’s mount, o’ a greed of putrid annexation where Moses walked ten obols worth of death only to view through a grayed mirror of sand. I slept in a Sanskrit mantra for a night, shelled in pink-white hardened clay only to be dross and a aerated womb of souls companying its own fatal hand…

This was a redress where a braid was relegated to the cipher of Yama; hand-spun by knotted hands we were resolute in inaction, deathless and without life-

Dr. Hari Māya Krsna

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