Thread Needled Poem by John Weber

My tendon's note
          bends downhearted;
fleshy, wincing anguish
          perforates with whelps
stippled by fiery ferocity and
          tempered grief.

Atoms collide
          without regret;
cunning, backdoor reptiles
          pick the star gate lock
fostered on occult erudition and
          ancient wealth.

Their content smiles
          belie fate storms
brewing; thrashing specters
          channel blood like veins
fueled by ignorant sacrifice until
          virtue concedes.

The microverse
          bends with quivers
hidden. Plunderers sow
          protracted disease
nurtured on toxic components and trust
          in civil death.