I of Scrimmaging

Live under these lights tour de force--the

soul's vestige.

An atomic roar had you at...I.

I of scrimmaging ghosts, their obsessive

vouchsafe of material world.

Coasting torn landscapes, places of wedge

and sleep with a flood of eyes open.

As realities interchange to maintain their

freakish status quo, there's a guess

that is ensnared by them.

This metaphysical jaunt is encyclopedic 

by nature, put and put to, to unburden.

Upstanding I, soused in outstanding

memorabilia--with thought's filament

flickering...what's seen is heavied as to

be believed.

I, has repeated on itself to populate our

marvel...earth.

We're everywhere.

Konstantinos Mark