Vile Radioactive Waste
© Surazeus
2025 10 12

If I slip on the sidewalk of regret,
I might learn how to fly on my own wings
while working all night stocking food store shelves
with fruit angels steal from the Tree of Knowledge
to prove the question we hide in our hearts
is worth analysis by the glass skull.

She tells me ten years later at the store
how her mother lay dying from disease
in vast hospital of auspicious ghosts
who hide in frames of lonely photographs
despite my wish to process rare earth metals
which produces vile radioactive waste.

Except for three bells ringing in the tower
I cannot hear brave voices of dead cows
who argue tenets of psychology
regarding how the brain knows it is real
each time lovers kiss under the elm tree
to symbolize endurance of our faith.

Saturnus calls me on the telephone
so we chat about my student loan bill
heavy as the albatross in my heart
who guides us on our arctic expedition
to find the north pole where blind devils dance
through harmonic convergence of despair.

There is no treasure I would trade for life
except ever-flashing mirror of truth
which chooses not to reflect my fake face
because I want to hide my arrogance
behind the pious smile of faith I wear
when we attend the evening college party.

The ghost horse waiting for me in the rain
teaches me how to play chess against Death
but I prefer to write computer programs
based on large language model of the mind
in project funded by cryptocurrency
from pyramid scheme for the wealthy crowd.

If I dance on the electric phone line
strung between crosses where messiahs die,
I might transcend the weakness of my heart
bound to the safety of your precious soul
that generates children from divine genes
which still evolve four hundred million years.

Wandering weird streets of Paris at midnight
we find cafe of ghosts in alleyway
where sweet Persephone brings us good food
while mute Pierrot plays lyre of Mercury
till dawn strips all illusions of despair
and leaves us happy on the road of life.

surazeus.blogspot.com/2025/10/…

Orpheus wears yellow hazmat suit as he cleans vile radioactive waste that pollutes the Garden of Eden.

#Poetry #Poem #Pastoral #Necropastoral #MetaModernism #Transrealism #NewSublimity #NewRomanticism #AmericanDream #Cinemism #Existentialism #Surrealism #NegativeCapability #NewGnosticism #MetaRealism #NewTranscendentalism #Astarism