The Dark Web

The Dark Web

In the apathy of WWW ruins, ghosts of TCP/IP roam the barren kingdoms

Of pavement artist and wiremen…

Misinformation and degradation of the innocents left to roast in URL’s of spit and blogs

High towers of cell, television, microwave and particle accelerator toast their meaning

Radioactive pod-casts, vapor trails of malcontents nurtured on personal ads as nanotech

I bled her, shred her, disposable as kitchen wrap

Viewed through the poisoned keyhole of my soul

She demolished space and time, warped perspective and found infinity

Where the swine eyed moon cowered from the blistering sun,

The souls engraving etched my dark tumors into her heart

The site was something like “harmony is a vision” – your visitation awaits

The cruel scammers, love jammers, the infidels of infidelity

The jealousy pirates lounging in deckchairs for the newlyweds

The lovers imbedded as jaded journalist in some war-torn peninsula of fates

It is severe and kitschy, rampant lethargy, eyes as dinner plates

Slumming and patronizing, a la carte amore, the waiters skim on skates

Like Sun Ra at the Kilimanjaro at the end of the ’80s,

Anvil heavy rhythms play out the musical chairs of fate

I loved her, I despised her, left letters of love shrouded in hate

I was matched with strangers whose dark souls I adored

I was terrorized by the calls for a true soul-mate

I researched, I lured, I lied, I cured and hurt the lonely, I broke their banks

I kneeled, not to pray, but sway the innocents, and butcher their wholesomeness

I lived in the shadows of the grace of widows, looking for that first date

I was a banker, a lawyer, a spaceman who has seen the empty edges of the universe

Where all the stars are counted, where truth has no grace, no time, no space

She loved me; she was like I, a darker version, a mysterious voyeur of loves leap of faith

And I accepted her; she loved our cruel bonds, our moods, our lies, our faithless sex

And I discovered that you could not lie about wantonness, the trust of flesh and desire

And I wanted her if only to choose between truth, lost faith or myself

And I needed to abuse all her faith; I needed a mirror, I needed to the self’s dark echo

And I needed to prove faith is a lie, that I was a God, I was God-less, His other

And I did as I pleased, without sympathy, or empathy, seething on the ruins, my heartless greed

And I had taken his place with a new trinity of brutality, the wasted wants, truth in blind flight

We made love, maybe just sex,

And she asked me who was I, and I lied and said: “I am your fate…”

In the many-chambered web of our bed, truth, reason, meanings sprawled like dead bugs

In the dark web’s ruins, we made up our bed, keeping the stained sheets of loves aftermath

In the faithless sun, sweat flamed the brushed veneer of our gelding; we rode on…

Into a night bled of fate, full of dreads and wanton longing for real desire where the flesh must meet

The horse burned out, rose like Pegasus, ashen wings beckoned us to look at the moon’s eclipse

Brittle to words, and facial tics, waiting for some glimmers of resolution, or empty words of redemption

We each pulled out our cell phones and scanned the latest personal ads

She is too innocent to be numb, only left to have all wonders wrenched away

Her spirits drained of any sense of divinity, of any prophecy of the mornings to come

I gave her a machine-for living lifestyle, towards an agonizing excess without perspective,

Where nature adores the immigrant, the wanderer of desires, the fool in the rain…

She has arrived, she sighed and trembled, without tears, accepted the hornets mask

The emblem of doomed desires, the look of the faithless, waiting to be used again…

I humbled myself before her, blossoming in her loneliness, and hate, her bent faith,

Each hungry kiss was a stinging reminder, a wretched mirror that did not ask,

“Who are you?”

“Why are you?”

“Where did you do this, to me?”

“What did you think about, me, or just you?”

“When can we do this, again?”

While turning my soul into a hot cauldron of hates, a wasteland of sunless love

While the moonless tide surges the seaweed creeping ashore

Webbing her bare feet with voyeuristic curiosity that overextends content without context

Now she knows me, where to cut and bleed me, and then leave me

Now she knows I am the fire, not for warmth, or light, but for burning the unread pages of her life

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