Onoma 1d
it's strange--

like dancing together

after the music's stopped.

miles apart.

the sound of a house

settling, alienated furnishings

binding together for a home.

the dance slows, anticipating

hesitation.

intuiting those that crammed

fear into uninhibited space,

for some measure of step.

control.

so she stretches her neck to

get a glimpse of him as if in a

crowded room--feeling virtually

smothered.

he never loses sight of her...it's how

she'll trust in being drawn to him.
Onoma 2d
yesterday i came

upon a chained up

dog wearing a muzzle.

the dog stood there,

and kept trying to bite

its muzzle.

a poet eating his heart

out came to mind.
Onoma 3d
suffer me,

that is...

allow this vista

to be superimposed

unto your own.

glean from your

kind, make the necessary

human inferences.

that a mirroring calm

awaits the storm.

which will yet astonish

you anew, even with all

your foresight.
Onoma 3d
nothingness took

me in again--

having been terrified

of being...bodiless.

terrified of being!

--bereft of been, or will be...

a body mercifully manifested.

as these bones remain

together to rest--

so to rise...

ever ominous their rest.

December makes cold

this evening...

nothingness at hand,

gives of itself.

where there was nothing

to give.

as what holds me here--

has nothing to hold

on to.

yet i lie down...

and down, lie on down.
Onoma 7d
the aperture and

shutter speed of

a monk's pineal

gland.

captures

a series of wouldbe

death masks blissfully

overexposed.
Onoma Dec 4
somehow during an

overgrowth of years,

you became frozen

stiff.

right where you spiked.

with what's beyond you--

yet you.

quoting the heart...

most memorably.

to the famished forgetfulness,

of a changing landscape.
Onoma Dec 2
this fog xeroxes

a blank mind...

dues eX machina.

curled up in bright raindrops

that cling to the idea

of a branch.

as a certain Mr. Darko stabs at

a mirror...Bunnymen Echo

through the fog.

diving down the holes

of her "Killing Moon".

those

songful submissions of dire

lyrical agency.

Mr. Darko will stare out

impolitely...till the lunar

mission completes itself.
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