"Raw Theta," "Timing Poem," and "Gong Li"

Raw Theta 

The old man on the green 
side of the moon ate steel gnats 
while saving the manatees from the 
wetnursian cyclopes living in Picasso’s 
blue period(—no! not God’s blue period! 
that was an intensely tropical flow 
and, to this day, has still barely been cleaned up!—
some people enjoy vacationing
in the weirdest of places!—)while 
waiting for the dopamine hit 
to wake him to his chronotype’s lie.   
All paintings with slight teal tints 
were singes in the sky back 
when the night was green. 

Timing Poem

In these dark days of minds mangled
by machines, where Fascism seeps through 
half the population’s latent hatred and spills 
into the streets of the zeitgeist, 
climate change choking a world 
that lied and denied itself into existence.
 
They say Jesus will be back soon 
to fix everything but soon is rarely 
soon enough, is it? Sometimes soon enough
is never and I think that’s what we’re dealing with here.

Gong Li 

You, wearing your oracular safety helmet;
religion is a brainborn pathogen
blown down from the sandy corridors
of the art of time-keeping and checking 
in on the middle earth as to keep an eye 
on the blossoming of milk from out their prickly green tree-gourds
adorned with psychedelic buttons. Old yet prevalent.
A toxic hue fans out across the globe,
infecting the hills and herds of people,
the various populous, causing pangs 
of endless delusion to rage
across the spacetime 
of a planet already faltering.