weirdo writes things

Mariana’s Reflection Far below the ocean, Where the waves don't reach, A ghoul listens in the dark; Its strange tendrils gloom across the rock bed. They glean with hearing hands a small speck in the cracks To be devoured by calm, cold lips: The ghoul's monthly meal. The ghostly participle of the depths drifts Ever onward. It will feed again when it should need. A solitary nature in an untold land, living in the blanket of silence, Where is it the fiend would find the sun's screams? Alien creature, monster of prehistory, Oh how you'd cry Of humanity's blood and glory.

deified ll be a poem with no start and no end: you could put it on a roll of receipt paper, hook it up on a paint roller, shoot it off of a leaf blower to watch it truly unravel to revel in the seat of multiplicative infinity that arrives in a reread of the words that wi