Watching the dark to catch a glimpse of something darker, for proof of error
Why didn’t you change the world? Contain the world
you weren’t a part of? How an iota can grow, become cosmic
Please make way, please make room, I’m frail and scared
and tell the truth; The Oracle & I swap wishes, not epiphanies
Beyond fabrication, the geocidal vision: a single silver vein
begging for severance, us submerging in a thrush of ourselves
You could have apologized before I conspired with all of Earth
to warp you, but I leave you this little oblivion, my knot of worm:
So near the surface, you’ll hear your name called in search for ages to come
- About the Author
- All Posts by This Author
From rural Michigan, Nicholas Alti is a bartender in Atlanta who holds an MFA from The University of Alabama. He is interested in horror, arcana, silliness, and surrealism. His poetry is in The Horror Zine, BlazeVOX, Poet Lore, Red Ogre Review, and elsewhere. Find all his published work at 3bluntzatonce.com.
- About the Author
- All Posts by This Author
From rural Michigan, Nicholas Alti is a bartender in Atlanta who holds an MFA from The University of Alabama. He is interested in horror, arcana, silliness, and surrealism. His poetry is in The Horror Zine, BlazeVOX, Poet Lore, Red Ogre Review, and elsewhere. Find all his published work at 3bluntzatonce.com.