The Impalpable Brush Fire Singer

No he is not an urn singer nor does he carry on rapport with negative forces within extinction he is the brush fire singer who projects from his heart the sound of insidious subduction of blank anomaly as posture of opaque density as ash he distanced from prone ventriloqual stammer from flesh & habit & drought the performer part poltergeist & Orisha part broken in-cellular dove part glance from floating Mongol bastions where the spires are butane where their photographic fractals are implanted with hypnosis because he allegedly embodies a green necrotic umber more like a vertical flash or a farad posing like a tempest in a human chromium palace therefore his sound a dazed simoom in a gauntlet a blizzard of birds burned at the touch of old maelstroms because he gives off the odour of storms this universal Orisha like a sun that falls from a compost of dimness out of de-productive hydrogen sums out of lightless fissures which boil outside the planet yes he sings at a certain pitch which has evolved beyond the potter’s field beyond a tragic hummingbird’s cirrhosis surmounting primeval flaw surmounting fire which forms in irreplaceable disjunction under certain formations of the zodiac he is listless he intones without impact his synodic revelations no longer of the law of measured palpable destinations because he sings in such a silence that even the Rishis can’t ignore as though the hollow power which re-arises from nothingness perpetually convinces like a vacuum which splits within the spinning arc of an intangible solar candle such power can never be confusedly re-traced because it adumbrates & blazes like a glossary of suns so that each viral drill each forge casts a feeling which in-saturates a pressure bringing to distance a hidden & elided polarity like a subjective skill corroded & advanced he sings beyond the grip of a paralytic nexus where blood shifts beyond the magnet of volume where the nerves no longer resonate inside an octagonal maze stung at its source by piranhas