Nothing you can stomach
—Particles whacking the poles green and red
Seething like maggots.
Remains refusing to stay dead
And defined, pissing on Plato;
His guff about the soul, the good and the true
Down the drain.
Everything coming up new
Again, strange again,
Rampant as that weed in the concrete divider.
—Both of us
Infantry of ephemeral fire
Advancing against a barrage,
Opposing armies straining in every cell.
Won’t stay nailed down, won’t keep still,
Stretching and straining meaning
In spite of the liar asking what truth is.
Swarm him. Truth is all excess.