Mysticism is for Children

I am not mystical I am Real
cannot feel my heart beat?
a pulsation like a cloud
and rhythm no more cheaper
or greater than celestial clusters spinning.

Repulsive force
keeps from penetrating flesh
lord of death
king of flies
buzzing round the roadkill
a final struggle of the squirrel
dead near doorbell.

I am real non-mystical
visions I have are real
stolen forces of cheap
hollow wooden spoons
in my mouth words real.

Sight to be sought
foul rhyming not in style
of ancient verse
round upon the clasp
the talons of the soul
freely spiraling on warm currents rising.

Black put first
shores of sandy seas
planting corn
you will not get beans
gourd out the eyes
the beaver cakes for larvae
spinal leftovers hardened for dread
seed and shake go down
vain land rattle
the serpent has come.

Heel to toe
run company bust and brown
paved for all to see the ease
only one hour where the wild forced to walk
texted to the lord of hosts:
"Earth is too difficult."
only made so
sue for profit
only business.

The mystic shamans are dead
only leftover posers unknowlegded
unrekonized ionized leaching
Li(fe) is dead
shame on you for being real.