A Conceit Owing Much to I Who is Someone Else

In the name of thrice
blesséd unholy Rimbaud
who famously took
extended leave of absence
from his own once-organized
senses I too’ve spent
my fair share of seasons in hell
although to tell of it, I’m sure
would read better in
the bewitching cadences
of his native tongue
une saison en enfer
sounding softly deferential
in lieu of a more agony-bred
title for the verses of
one fatally accursed
the switch from absinthe
to opium addict accounting for much
of his later heightened suffering
although offering little
more than poetic license
to explain my own fall
from grace/loss of nerve
and subsequent search to
re-find/refine it these
fifteen years past caring
he the master alchemist
(impossibly at twenty-one)
me his apprentice, learning
to consume these poisons
contained within and the
love of the quintessence
of words, this being the horrible work
without boundaries, without sleep, without blessings
without hope of salvation, the clouded moon glimpsed
at midnight a fortress stormed by will
alone and the ramparts of
reason left in ruins
so as to croak these bejeweled
laments as lonely as a crow.

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About Lorem Ipsum

Just some guy trying to figure out where the "on" switch is hid on the remote control—ah, forget it. Because, you know what, I'm also the kinda guy who always likes the book waaay more than the movie! View all posts by Lorem Ipsum

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