Machinations of imagination

Machinations of imagination

I'm a native to contemplation

It's the savior from condemnation

He's a sailor of condensation


This conversation's copulating

And populating noggins fading

It's operating on your waking

Moments of closest consolement


Machinations of imagination

The limitation of a magic station

Is the intimidation of a factual nation

And the litigation of rational pacing


This mob is tasing problem statements

The lot is saying God will save 'em

Last shot, I'm praying modulation

This close-knit cloak controls you


Machinations, Oh, Machinations.

My motor, my soul, my breath.

Where were you before my birth?

Where are you after death...




This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


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