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Ooga booga darling.
It's me, sunflower face
the fox-hearted misdirected letter of your dreams.

I live in the space between the walls.
I play Candyland with brain-injured devils
for a *** of chilly blue dawns.

I raid your fridge while you dream of dolphins.
I tip toe around your place, judging the art,
boiling the pasta, making a mess.

That's me saying "love me" from the heat vents.
That's my voice on the tv during your ballgame,
making you ***** with the settings.

Give in, please. I haven't got all day.
Once, I was an Egyptian queen.
Once I was a Dutch laundress.
Now I live inside your Jiffy-Pop, getting hot, expanding suddenly.

It's me, sunflower face,
the fox-hearted misdirected letter of your dreams.
You'll wake up in love with me.

You'll wake up as a black horse wearing a feather plume.
You'll wake up to find me in bed next to you, staring.
I've put my stamp, my kiss, my spell on you.

Easy my high-stepping Friesian, shh shh...
It's all right, I'm a specter and I've got the cure
for all your missteps, I'm an oval track, fresh spring clover,

a pinch of salt, and a lot of black cat!
 Jul 30
renseksderf
"The Empire‐Skeptic and History Class"

Your Aeneas builds an empire
on exile and sorrow—what of the cities
he conquers, the peoples displaced?

Transformation has a cost.
By glorifying his ‘spark,’
we risk overlooking the suffering
ignited in his wake.
to be taken with a grain of salt and if not possible be a duck as the water cascades of its back...
 Jul 30
renseksderf
"first bruise"

Streetlamps flicker,  
echoing their silence.  
The chill—  
not just in the air,  
but between glances  

that once burned.  

Footsteps dissolve  
into memory's fog,  
while love  
learns its first  
bruise.
Flowers outside the schoolroom grew bigger and brighter of their own volition. " Alice, Alice !" the teacher called.  All she saw was a saucer eyed girl sitting,  staring out the window. Sober as a Deacon she sat there with her mind blow-stitched to the earth.  Fireworks burst in the sky as a big purple blubber bounced out "Alice, Alice" ssssssssss was the sound it made as it  cupped out O with a sticky jelly mouth.  
he was from outer space
unlike her own race
he was soooo, gooey gooey!!!
A slight change in atmosphere and suddenly Alice fell topsy-turvy into a dark hole.  Exotic energy clung to her as she spun out of control and dropped into an inter-stellar tunnel filled with brilliant stars. Faster than the speed of light she travelled into a non existent wormhole.  A sweet little paper plate with eyes, nose and mouth greeted her on the other side. He spoke the infographics of his knowledge to her, sending shock waves of pleasure to her extra-sensory perception with telepathic communication;    
Lost in gravity waves  
time dilation ...  
She arrived safely.
Oh the flowers, the flowers were everywhere! Each specific tessitura sang to her in baritone, soprano, mezzo soprano and tenor.  It was an elevation of the highest senses.  Through vertical angles the sound was outsourced, so she listened with continuum " Alice, Alice " is what they sang in chorus.  She tried to determine where the melody was coming from but deep down she knew that this heavenly music was an extension of her and them.  Oh what a sweet tonality it was, both subdued and energetic at the same time. As the galaxies split, the tidal forces merged together and suddenly it made no difference where she was or how she got there. All she knew was she was finally home !
 Jul 28
renseksderf
"The Meagre String"

In a dusty corner
the final string trembles—
a solitary note aching
                   to become a verse.

It breathes its solitude
                  
                  into splintered wood,
praying its fragment of promise
                   still sounds sacred,
even missing the choir’s embrace.





.
Christ or dollars
I'm on my knees
cross or stud collars
but only if I please.

I need redemption,
successful lobotomy.
Am I the exception
or Rose Kennedy?
Sputters in the thick of night
setting the pathway ablaze!  
Flavors of foretimes return
bittersweet as my spirit;
A street lamp pours out sweetly,  
upon my shoulders of bare.
Recalling honey-dew words
I weep, ...bitter tears for you.
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