Faded works of James,


The ambulant sire affords the right to cultivate spite, like the caterpillar’s walk


Forum, the open light settling forthwith supple divinities locked in palace stone palisades


Therein lay diverse modalities of exuberant icons, the groundwork of Bramhan slaves, those priestly flocks of men cast in long shadows of the evening sol.


Excited states, these few who argue with fading reason just beneath the orchard like fallen fruits rotting on the floor


I am the escaping light, distant skies of old fueling the intertwined serpents of mesmerizing plumes of atomic decay.


Of Lust, contentment and plight.

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allets's picture

The Future

INTERESTINGLY, i do not see nuclear exchange and it is likely now!