The Amphibious Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner Poem by Nathan Coppedge

1
Had you called our number from the platform of hyperion…
Into the essential beyond reckoning…
Would we stick to our paradoxes…
Seeing them as truth…
Or would we consider Forms unleashed…
Below and above time's manifest…
In differences like luck and irony…
Somehow ‘brought up' to the mappe…
It's single-color dialect so strange…
It directs a trap…
2
How to survive?
That is one question I wondered.
The technology is a vicious map.
And I am related to soup.
The frission of the sea
Rejoices at the anomaly.
…