beauty blues by baiting
breaths...tantruming,
posing the uprise
of perfectly fallen light.
sky's headshot, backdropping
backdrop of...
cherry blossoms crumbling
to perform the ceremonial
rights of birds breaking a
****** wing.

From the shade of
faceless remorse...
the words of the
ground are
enunciated.
To the tune of
stone relieving
weight, to the
rhythm of wind
pacing horizonal
hips.
Seeds swarm their
arch, as the sower's
head lowers...dancing
with the overall shape
of things.

As certain as red to rotten

tomatoes, these flicks from

The Flux...dream up, down,

and side of ways everfor.

Whose etheric budget's

round about: earth, that's

              but a...)

camera's Pandora's Box

of cameras.

Indivisible, invisible to visible

images...gaga sagas.

Secrets self-combust,
inexplicably slip
a tongue's tongue...
dryly rifling
at rows of teeth.
Whose cratered mouth
makes a display of
savage grace.

There's even a place for
light to hide--
where the speed of its year
goes to stop seeing.
To sleep the silence of a
different kind of clarity.
The center of a record fixed
to a point of no return, as
was on eternal play.
Now playing the first as last
note, every song's ghost.
Perfect circles drained
through one another...
sentience chasing itself.
Highest high, lowest low--
experienced simultaneously,
then cut off at peak intensity.
A sound that sighs the passion
of extinction--a whole wholly
consumed.
To equal the nullification of
lesser and greater degrees.
The richest black ever unseen--
colored by what tried to get
out of G*d's sight.
Where angels fall, and stagger
off--having been strip-searched
by Truth...enough.

Life takes
you to heart,
despite the
mileage of
indifference.
Deep down,
somewhere
in there,
somewhere
out there,
here, now...
you know
hope holds
up.