After the Matrix

In my mind there are pure empty constructs
of divine perversion
where screams personify absences
terrify molds of lust,
the gritty gridlocked grief
of interior mechanics,
spiritual (sexual) excess
casts nets of irrelevance
into leather souls.

In my mind, there are holed-in attics,
poisoned thoughts gather in lilliputian halls,
canvas rebellions from my skeletal body,
make twisted gesticulations in terms of heavenly humor,
shake the very buttons of my sanity loose.
In my mind
there is a displaced dot
that break off all my defenses
supremely stared.

In my mind, there is nothingness
beyond the moles & dark matters
in the punctures of my heart,
there is a punked set of traumas who love
these places of my mind,
attract dozens of peddlars
into the lower spheres
into the shuffled garbage of my mind.

Pains are castrated into forms of dissimulations
in the teepees of anthills
where soldiers carry off
grasshoppers with miniscule steps
in the darkest yells
of my mind.
In my mind, out of my mind, out of the hells of my mind,
a mind with jaw-locked grins.

In my mind, I drop a penny
into a well
listen
for concentric echoes.