Feeling like a miner on a break in the winze
Handling an elsin that I found in the boat
and counting out a handful of uvelloid pins.
I placed the coins inside a utriculiform
as I reached the shore and stepped onto the sand
I've disembarked on cacodemomania
and I note that egotheism feels grand.
A group of harpies practice latration
To whemmle me and take me to their chief
I hear the bourdon playing on the mountain
retral the harpies, I'm a kingpost, I believe.
Wearing maillot seems unwise in summer
it does not seem to dampen oblectation
perhaps they studied diplomatology
or they're holographic shadows of damnation.
The chief seems into idolomania
His quilombo is lined with figurines
He calibrates an X-ray with a qualimeter
looking through me, looking past me, so it seems.
I discover I'm a vacuist in moments
It is possible pistologists are right
Truth is difficult to prove once it's discovered
i'm learning omniana this night.
The harpy's wondermonger steps forward
Whispers lots of words between his hands
The chief is looking at me, looking through me
Looking past me, he can't seem to understand.
I am tossed into a bastion most foul
There are shouts and accusations on the fly
I experience theopathy and conversion
but his orthian speech breaks the spell of the sky.
For a polyhistor he has quite surprised me
I blend in like an argyll with the dishes
perhaps sthenia will find me after all and I
will once again swim among the fishes.
The harpies take some money and depart
I'm surprised he paid for something he can't see
peradventure he was scared of them or maybe
do the one-step, maybe he is scared of me.
maybe he thinks I have tumorigenic powers
I think he is pycnomorphous in the head
why not religate the creature in the bastion
let me roam about, invisible, instead.
I am in a demonarchy so it seems, in my dreams
quoad how I got here, I was tricked my xenurines
I experienced rheotropism and then I
found the lamé that unravels in my dreams.
The chief is studying a lithoglyph
I am watching hoping he will never see
I am irrumpent and I am on a mission
While he thinks that he is somehow catching me.
His weakness is pteridomania
like a xenagogue I summon him to me
He can't see but he is uncate by my gaze
I roll leaves between my fingers setting free.
The odor is nonpathogenic but it
glazes his eyes like rhopography
and I find myself a little captivated
His power's weak but its lordolatry.
His cecity gives me an advantage
I reach between the bars and take the key
I wince at smelling his bromidrosis
It's laced with lusory hints of the sea.
I release myself from the prison and escape him
Still the xerotic air makes it hard to breathe
rebullition surrounds me and I feel trapped
Then carnifex lays hands roughly on me.
"You can't see me, how'd you catch me,"
I seek éclaircissement
"I won't tell you, I will show you,"
and his hands begin descent.
From my shoulders, to my elbows,
to my wrists and to my hands
He whispers in my ear and then
I finally understand.
"You lost encraty and hastened
to escape, to freedom flee
It is true I cannot see you,
but of course I see the key."
Samantha Jayne Frost
4/13/2021