Once there was an old woman
who had tremendous bad farts,
And this is where our story begins
this is where it all starts.

Her farts were just awful
they'd stink up and ****
They'd make babies cry louder
and make all the roses wilt

When she walked into town
her farts wouldn't stop
A green stink cloud would follow
wherever she'd walk

"Whats that AWFUL smell?!"
people would exclaim
Then they'd all point to the old lady
who always suffered the blame

Due to these consequences
the old lady was lonely
How much she longed for love,
and just a place that felt homely.

They say there's someone special
for each and every soul
Even for stinky old ladies
and that's why this story is told

When fate intervenes
no one can really say
Whats meant for you or me
or what makes old lady's day.

For one day old Miss Stinky
was walking through a store
She met a perfect gentleman
who held open her door

He didn't run away
like all the other people
He came up to Old Miss Stinky
and oh how she got so feeble!

He fell in love
with all of old Miss Stinky
To her **** bombs and green clouds
he said "Oh wow, That's real *****!"

You can never know
when your special someone comes by
For If stinky old ladies find happy endings
why shouldn't I?

Now she's not alone
just happily farting each day
They had a huge hazmat-mask wedding
and he swept happy old Miss Stinky away

The noon's greygolden meshes make
All night a veil,
The shorelamps in the sleeping lake
Laburnum tendrils trail.

The sly reeds whisper to the night
A name-- her name-
And all my soul is a delight,
A swoon of shame.

Side worn glances draw the skin pale. Half dressed inferences hooked on a nail.
Spiteful nostalgia picked from the nose, of Tom Waits while holding a rose.
Serpentary train of thought, inevitably back to the same spot.

Revert to responsibilities of old, and return to reveries told.

Spectrums of light tumble blindly, refracting in through open panes,
     Opaque shadows cast from blind spots left by stains.

Trying to be poetic for poetry’s sake, resolute in resolve, discovered as a fake.
The lexicon’s been tossed aside, for depressive angst most should hide.
Tachyons convolute the art, allowing the removal of heart.

Starry skies stripped of worth, sanitized sacrilege straight from birth.

Tentative steps, pushing the precursor forward as the floe begins to melt,
   Nudge the idol in, and return to shore without talent, but svelte.

Every day I take a step
Towards the end
Losing a bit of me
Finally, one day
Will hold hands
Of end of time
A beginning
Of another journey
Losing way
In the massive universe
Existing in the unknown
To this world

I come from darkness
And such as a moth
Beating itself
To death
Against a flame,
In your arms, I burn
Just the same.


F.Z.N

~

Shadows move on sheet rock barriers
framed in time of late
Spaces filled with unknown visions
dance about with feet of clay
Gowns of nightmare carpetbaggers
thunder on the floor
Drippings in a mist of nervous breath
blanket my safe haven
and the sounds scream
in voices of past mishaps
Lost in lonely corridors,
wailing on aching skylights
permitting barely a moon glow psalm
to echo of their meaning
in songs from a distance,
of pleading skeletal desire

“I fear for I have no choice”

Doorways yawn in weary ovations
Slanted photos dot the landscape
Windows prove little relief from the cold
as heat pierces my cavities
Gaping wounds of frail memories
clutch at my last ounce,
measuring the words I am reading
Taking a breath, sweet, stagnant
Clawing for an exit only to find
it has stood before me all along
Baby steps, I have been told
Find that trust, slowly…make sure,
reach out for the hand
offered on a dreamscape message

“I fear for I have no choice?”

Eyes, so tired, weeping pools
out of focus since that day, open
(As if sunflowers float on silken wings
and glorious becomes an understood word)
slowly and tentatively,
blinking sorrow’s pathway free
to lead me to you
The imprint of that butterfly
marks my palm in red lines of love,
mapping my skin with a long awaited
smile, dry lips curve as I take your hand
trusting, for the very first time
realizing the feeling
which hath finally…set me free

“I no longer fear, for I have a choice”

Spikes of pain are going up my arm
And my head is aching with some kind of alarm
They're all trying to tell me the one thing I know:
The inside and the outside of my body are COLD!~