They were spectacular!
Visions unlike any you would believe!
and one day I may write about them.

In sheltered gaze
the swan of consciousness
becomes liberated by

        the calm death of March

As a noble
mother fits into her own
neon curvature,
      complacent fisheries sigh in
       ashen tones with smoke mixed in the
       puget air
      
        I thirst for the horizonless
        milk of the clouds
       and to be gradually
            rekindled

             -my soul to
             imitate the repose
             of your features

And so the Universe looks on
with sad eyes as it expands
between nowhere and nothing,
creating and destroying,
spinning fiercely through darkness,
much like ourselves.

And so we wake
in the midst of
a slow going disaster.

& the Capuchin dances on a grand piano
Lit by a candle
I'm gonna catch that ****** someday
But he is good at hiding and bringing me
Baskets of dead flies
With a smirk that says he knows
Exactly how sick he is
Unbathed and starved.

Sheathed in stolen jewelry
the Capuchin
Mocks Salvador Dali hung up beside us
I attempt to strangle him but he knows better and wraps a necklace around my throat
& tightens in a boiling silence

Meanwhile the kettle is unattended
And hot and I can't breath!

I suppose I deserved this with how much I hated and dreamt of escaping this monkey..

But sometimes karma simply comes back around and
Shows you who the real fool is

The piano is terrified of losing me

I wed your double mortality,
death of life
death of thought.
I wed this disintegrating world.
death of day
death of night.
I wed my dreams, however painful or pleasing.
I wed the fog dragging in
over these blurring recollections of time
and the days of tenderness
before the fire.
I wed this comfort
in cruelty and comely
and all we deserve which is
everything and nothing.

wine about me god with dark hair below me moving

i feel incredulous when i look at myself with borrowed eyes

and the room smattering a night paint thorough

immutable triumph you undress like perfect coat

that palm of your mind shakes hands with mine

and obsfucates the sea, sea fog heaves its bright weight

bright alone like god piano the sun piano in church

galician heat and night erode my throat and what it has to

plea for watching the summer die and you begin your

return to israel

the boats are left where no boat belongs, already that sea-line

stone cools and hardens real magic into the apses

later let lay in ruby sheets for however long lacking your wet

dark way like a prayer but the mouth is sealed in a perfect

tomb