Seltzer star
fizzling like a pill of dust
in the throat of mass misery
wrapped in prison hours
and seconds of miniature perceptual escapes,
the culmination of moths around the light
of the existing moment;
wrought in carrousel indictments,
suspended voice and hermit name –
like a dog,
in the senseless procedure
of understanding
the cause and reason of events,
have I been freed
from the road of collision
with the master plan of chance?

I stay longer
in the night brimming
with fizzling astral loathsomeness
my hand in the pocket
and the wretched expanse
as a dark expression of
mystery.

Nihilistic Poetry Blog