Olive Trees to Willow Trees
by Mathieu St. Jean

Criss crossing over surreal sunbursts

cursed explanations purse my lips sealed

these wind-talkers with their pretentious sugar coated spines

they have nothing left but sour disarray commercially packaged

they're ravaged in plastercine euphemisms for a subsequent speech

these syncopated leeches stare at us through multiple frequencies

instigated by breaches of honesty

sincerely we hope ulterior motives bloom olives trees

although all this gloom depicts naivety

hope is scarce within this hostility

a predictability of instability amongst abusive militaries

the presence of national bullies

Androids forecast a new overcast on policy

an irrational pulley system is among us

ages of deceit defeat any concrete trust

inferead beams combing the shadows of downtown buildings

looking for prey, searching for innocent prisoners

automated machines march like sculpted mahogany puppets

a lifeless task for assurance of a maximized piece of empowerment

an attempt to commercially generalize a race

when will we be erased

Non Her
by Mathieu St. Jean

Blurred constellations drawn with sequins from the prior dawn

drowned in skin while floating beyond the galaxies' freckles

she adores monoxide more than she fears oxygen

when a helium queen is instigated her substances protect the hive

her arrogant moons provoke the surrounding surreal satellites

serenity is AWOL until her surface can seek a supportive sequence for survival

unsurmounted conditions unfold truth to a tall tale history

she feels unrest lingering in the humid air

unsettled she is, the problems persist into paralysis of thought

clemency is surreptitious when tradition is threatened

her dry skin flakes off with every step she takes

pacing back and forth her shadows trace her every step

hysterical screams from the land of scarecrows

confided secrets desert while deceit surfaces

before the day is over another illusion has been uncovered

a pixelated fingerprint dissipates from her every handshake

her mutual enemies acquaint and her episodic friends desert

adorned in a crown of injustice

she scathes her audience

whistle blowers ail from asthma attacks these days

candy cane nerves engulf a fist from the other side of her life-sized sandbox