Kayak, Catacombs, and Comatose: Comatose (All My Ink Falls Nil)
by slaveofone
The sages on the portico renounce their familiarity with consciousness
Listen to their drumbeats
You will see soon enough that these motions are but illusion
Only the stoutest torso can bear it
Did the answer elude them?
Cackle cackle is all I hear, this perception precipitous
In the reservoirs sleeps Satisfaction, whose dreams are deadly
No more, it seems, no more
There was little or no difference between the arteries, and so I cut one
Rabbits dwell there
Guided by a thousand papacies
Rope ladders can be cast from the shining parapets
Such solitary ruins depict my father’s fall into slavery
This is the tepid nectar the gods of Greece forgot