Somehow this is still floating
Jerusalem spills out in roads
To confess his lyric untouchable
The dawn of his heart is a criminal tomb
Scalded by laws of backdrops
Questing on threads of original myth.

And she may as well be cruel,
And she may as well be liquid,
With her unity homologous ly
Massacred by weights and leanings,
She imitates the shouldering indebtedness
She seeks
To obliterate the counterfeit divine.
Because imaginary drownings are the uterus
Of coughing
She obliterates the splice of fascination.

And what is that connection
Between an atom and its purgatory
That clips the padlocks from our panic?
To plow the prohibition
To be given and received
Must we insert the focus of our charms
Into the rippled orbits of our murder?

An abomination rests inside a
Calculated tenderness, but rests.
The mingling borders may not last
For anything but dying on the threshold
Of a punishment and merging into legend,
But a straight ascent is launched
And arches into legend’s cradle, nonetheless
Emerging from the cross-contamination
Victorious against monotony and suicide
An abomination rests inside a
Calculated tenderness, but rests.

-John Smieska