I am caged blonde
Trump in prison, envision his unfurling combover like a wave rewound
I once dipped goggles in dicyanin dye before visiting, found him Djinn-orbitted
His lobes loud with suggestions for the world’s division
A blurred vision, a drunk’s revelation, blind vision:
Long dead destinies rise like the dead of Zombie Island
Termagant missiles rise like buried saints on Doomsday, disinterring with propulsive force and launching cloudward
The cloud’s ward an old sentry will weep his watch’s end, as the phalluses of atomic change us toward deep Sheol.
Alchemisland 
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