Post-Neology

Reared in the desert,
I was born,
Fearfully begging,
to be drown,
Under time’s tidal excess ebbing,
Now.
Instead of flowing towards,
some unsuffered morrow.
“god if you can hear me”
‘release me and I’ll,
Do the same.’
Fair play to,
balance out a history,
lacking,
meaning, hollowed down,
to my father’s marrow.
I thought I might be,
a victim of geography,
(once.)
But the clarity,
Longitudinally afforded,
Surveyed that canyon,
The size of goddamn Texas,
Residin in me,
corazón-ally,
Had been there before,
My mother’s past,
>magneto-ethically<
Doomed me as Daesin,
Outsider eternally,
Autist made,
Morality.

X marked on my chest,
Branding:
built different!
>Socio-decidedly<

)Si se puede(
The empty cans sing back,
quenching the question,
of “why I oughtta,
stay Christlike when”
(¡)WACK(!)
“Ignorance attacks?”
Keeping both cheeks still,
til,
the next one cracks,
through like daylight,
Sanitizing sick solipsitic sips,
Carrying me further away,
Via funeral ship,
From all kinds of kin.
Sorrow-filled waters,
Have long eroded,
Where I walk.
Pero,
El agua no olvida

(Always)
A path appears,
Se hace camino al andar,
Even the trail of a,
Traitor treading,
water with a,
too patient pace,
Back and forth,
Over and over,
Tills a hydroponic plot,
He may yet,
grow to regret.