This is not honest work.
We must lie, deceive, embellish, thieve.
But are they not all the more enchanted by it?
Do not fool yourself with this sense of honesty.
Instead, trade that in for earnesty.

To seek the narrow scope
Of ancient tongue
And forlorn script
Wherein beauty held science
And love conquered skin
In spite of dismal truth
That senile surrender
Let the stars be swallowed
Whole by the sun
Let that awe surround
And in time, confound
The sons and daughters
Of logic unknown yet
For fear of forgetting
The marvellous, vacuous beauty
That encircled your eye

There, the caldera bevelled
In the spitting image of her bell
Looking shy above the shore
Was the essence of her smell
Liquids sharp, naked harp
A catamite in my succor
Graceless heave, tender sleeve
Pearly trailing tail

Entwine, surrender, entwine, surrender
Scintillating boy or throbbing girl

In new moments, waves collapsed
Ink lashed on our toothless gaps
A monkey washed, motions high
Pink shores creased, began to cry
Swelling up like a storm
Smells of Eden, the baby is warm
In the cool flame which sits down still
As it marvels at the hole that it filled
Overlapping with her blue commotion
Like two hills on a vicious plane
Eunoia sighs in consummated sky
They curled deep inside
The cavity of their hands

As vesper came, they awoke with no name
But there was something on their tongues

I miss the happiest things
From the worst of people
And there, suffering
From a terrible delight

Day, oh die
So idle, I
Live in stranger shoes
In another caboose

So soft, they are
Yet never feeble
I dream to lay
With the kindred people

I pulled my fingers out of the gutter
The Priestess turned her head to me
With her velvet pearls and trumpet stutter
"Do you belong to eternity?"
She twisted tight on my headlight
I widened her eye socket out of fright
I told her "honey, I like the look of your nose"
Which twisted up to the cosmos

Then she looked beyond
Like some small vagabond
Looking through a door
That wasn't there anymore
The black sea stretched across
She wielded my hand
Against the sleepless night

The town was crooked
People were empty
Tied to balloons and corpses of brides
The beds were shallow
The shore bred mountains
Yet there she was to taunt me
To envelop me
In her majesty's vice

Father
Glass eyes, brass tongue
He told me the truth
That I am
Sniveling
Unkind
Weak
Foolish
Frail
Callous
Complacent
Conceit­ed
Hideous
Inadequate
Useless

So, I
Laid him down
On the cherry floor
And proceeded to
Stomp his neck
Gouge his eyes
Gnaw his ear
Slam his head
Until both men were left
Very dead, dead, dead

One day
I'd like to become that brief flash in the image
A visage, so cloud-like
The fleeting document of motion
That unmistakeable force
Of pure devotion
Where my hair, lit ablaze
By the eyes of hazy light
Painted by hard trails
Of smoke within the night
The Macedonian head
That had the nerve
This uncompromising nerve
To step on the shoulders of others
While whittling his own
I will be a figure
That stands loud, not tall
And allows the pangs of life
To coil around his neck
And throw him far
Into the lawless salvation
Of the blank tomorrow