ASPHYXIUM ZINE

Wednesday, April 4, 2018

Poem: 'Visions of Distortions: (or) Ammunitions to Proportion' by Jeremy Void

Visions of Distortions: (or) Ammunitions to Proportion

I don’t trust
the things that I see
because the way that I dream
the way that I think
the schemes that I fathom
amid a mental maelstrom
pouring thunderous swells
of luxurious
misadventures
distinguishing the fuse
of another night’s wasted musings
losing a war that my soul
forfeited over
by the moon’s tremendous glow
I watch I wait I see I be
I twist I fight I tear I ignite
the chords of a rippling dissertation
a disturbance of
brittle dissatisfactions
I listen to my mind’s tantrum
my head tight tight tight in a vice
I wind the bars churning
my dystopian misanthropy
This bloated fast lane has got me
under its tremoring thumb
I succumb to the sadness
I become one with
the wanton badness
I beckon the madness
fraternize with a delirious
shadowy
fading array of flashing
blinking
headlights
Like a deer caught in the moon’s
overhead gloom
I’m gloomy & fragile
the things i see evaporating
I hope in death I die forever
implosions sent to surrender
I shut my eyes forever
because when I look at the fires
flickering up from the stove
I see not what it seems
I become not what you’d think
Evicted by sacrifice
Blessed to experience terminal
remission
dismiss the ruminations
I’m losing mutilated diluted
doomed to walk through
one disillusion after
the next
an elusive divergent
I load the feeble fusion of another
lonely night’s speedy visions
another distorted night’s disjointed
ammunition
I trust not what I see
because all I see here
is not worth the freezing cold
that buries the peasant’s
delirious leather
I get better on serendipitous extensions
extending a crisp, swollen hand
when
I fall
to the crumbling stones
hidden beneath the weather

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