Q: What have you been doing this…decade?
A: Alchemizing

The Age of Resentment was supplanted by the Age of Self-Destruction. Perhaps I would always be depressed, but I wanted the freedom to be depressed in new places. The past does not exist. I exist. Survival is metamorphosis. Yes, I wanted to live as a poet and—worst of all—I wanted to live extravagantly. The wreckage of desire. I died in the abyss of your eyes.

The sacrilege of apotheosis
again and again, I died for this
Survival is metamorphosis
Sleeping in reveries like Titania
Yes I was sunrise
Refracting like the ephemerals of light
Apotheosis I died for this
Annihilation by the rival—
Oblivion, the achievement! of Exile!
Wounded the sun sank into fire
Annihilation in the sheared gardens of Edens
Spare me autumn
Spare me storm of Oblivion
All languages segregated from Heaven
Dying in the crucible of sunrise, dying by a guillotine of light
I was small standing before the stations of the surviving stars
and then the darkness commanded me to fall
I was small standing before the stations of apocalypse ash
and then the darkness commanded me to collapse
I said Herr Madonna and the dream lapsed
Ornament of creation like Madonna the storm-oracle
Abyss of Elysium, what a waste—the flesh!
I the riven trafficked by dark dawns
And then I was gone in the decadence of Babylon
I was dynamite in the abyss
I was a hymn in the silence
Voiceless the drowned
who am I in the reaching dark
who am I that you say thou art
heartbreak dawn, who am I to ache?
the dialect of midnight, who am I to wake?

rest forthcoming.