the hares have sensed the crumbling spires
like storms of bleeding stone.
this temple, our dungeon, is of fear's loftiest crystal.
for the castles of white have made warriors thirsty
...
The fog is at times yellow
like the must of the wolfs back in February
the winds make idiot laughter of our poised walls
melting our fear of shoes and laws and facts....
...
Where is air when my lips turn blue?
where is comedy when i sleep beside a ghost?
where is hope when sobbing comets twist in silted sky?
where is logic when the air dies and the shapes melt?
...
Your words were streaks of algae
in my heart
a bloated, rotting Leviathan
you killed before the clock of sea could claim its scales
...
I speak your name in times of reflection
in some enlightened moments
you reply
in others i can hear you scoff at my irrevocable devotion
...
i have become a seer by nourishing myself on daydreams
my fantasy diet
is provided by your loves distant factory
build me a winged boat with tablecloth sails
...
Most 10 year olds dont watch the morning news before school
the buzz of gobbling Froot Loops and slammin Sunny Delight as if it were the nectar of the golden sun itself contrasted sharply with matters of quarterly tax negotiations and recaps thereof.
The morning i decided to put on the first hemms of my proto-adolescent daddy-pants was that of September 10th 2001, was one that was likely not unlike any other broadcast at on Today in New York
i remember it being hokey, trivial,
...
The moon is wan and sallow
drenching us in her shafts of light
in yesterdays vision, i was inspired by a static aura
((violets))
...
A blushing little town
on the edge of a watery cloak
you wake up to fluffy eggs and feathers
kisses that tickle like tiny explosions
...
Trollish beauty is your white shadow
DANCE DANCE DANC
E.
makes you sweat brain-sweat
...