I Saw An Ideological Construct In The Sky

I saw an ideological construct in the sky
A sort of joy
Floating amongst the clouds
Formed by dead cells —
A ray that seemed to have lost its way
Or
A way that seemed to have lost its day.

*

No, not in the Book of Reasons
That I try to locate myself,
But in the position of the planets
Trod by the five-bodied mythical beast
It’s spoor so insane its magical.

*

Thus, I found myself
Fixing my fucked-up fragments.
Not lining them up with any ideas
That never invaded my mind.
Think of twine.

*

I want to be open to the Other;
I want your opening to enter
To see if in a human cave
There’s a human lair.

*

I think of love as a byproduct
Of human distance
The size of an error
As vast as the heart’s Antarctic
As ironic as an erogenous zone.

*

As the tusked horse flapped
Its mythical wings
Attached to its skin of scales
Its dragon claws poised,
I slipped and crashed beside a cloud
The beast I caught obscured.

*

You set a caged bird free for luck
To see it fly away with joy
Into your dream sky.
It flew straight back to the cage.

*

I guess my DIY has its limits.
So what does the litmus test say?
Pray, what predictions
In reproductions
Of re-deconstructed clay?
Say what?
The Exit is elsewhere?

*

The beast is on the rise.
There, thus, it flies.

*

Guess the bird didn’t want to exist
In places that didn’t exist
In its small bird brain.

Zeyar Lynn
27 Nov  ’17

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