What would you call the halo
draping rectangular brick
metal, wrapped around circuits
that feed electrons into dark LEDs?
Dark for even at dusk, their glow
was shadow in the wake of rays stretched
out in orange. Neat little dots, red
like the coals in hell remind me
that I’m in a device and facing one larger.
A frailness held me tighter
than the strong grip on a wheel, so tight
that tears performed little baptisms on the edge
of my dry lips. How could I expect time
to hold me there, close to a certain vision that
I may never see again? Of course, a constructed flash
broke that spell, thrust me into blue realities.
Go! Faster now! For
Outside the matrix is only
Death, black and
Impossible to know.
Some will tell you
Inside dead flesh another world is
Nigh, but know that
That is written in
Human blood, not
Even in stone. Know that
Abound in the kingdom
Caught with two eyes!
Here live the angels
In simple visions,
Not so beatific, but
Outlasting the black boxes and
Far stronger than UV rays is
Living skin, human skin
Inundating the world with a
Feverish heat. Therein lies not
Everlasting life, but maybe hope.
Jamario Cantrell is a poet, traveler, and content creator. His work is concerned with the intersections of the human condition with powerful, yet fleeting experiences. He has work featured and forthcoming in FEED, Maw, the Agapanthus Literary Collective, the Jupiter Review, and Bombfire. He currently lives in Port St. Lucie, FL where he's at work on his first collection of poetry. He can be found on Twitter: @CantrellJamario.