thunder cackles in the morning
a witch is a woman
with any amount of wisdom
your words are as bland as coffee
and the dandelions are talking
for i am permanently amused
by vicissitudes and antelopes
and aggregates of moods
feelings and isotopes
hanging by psychotropic ropes
firmly financed by our fingertips
lifetimes triangulated in transitions
farm the fallow fields
and try to heal the poppies
dropping numbers
and putting aside our copies
a simulacrum of similes and shortages
as field mice and farmhands
dance on saturn’s rings
despite all of jupiter’s complexities
your complexion is never shallow
and i swallow seawater
to embrace the sweet finality of life

i digress and select a letter
from a pile on my desk at random
perplexed as an isotope
we cope with our failures
by drinking smoke
and inhaling vapor
liquid rapiers blasting
our addictions on the radio
has language declined
as more and more symbols combine
is it blasphemous to rhyme
when you were clearly told not to

sweet jesus
life is outrageous
listless alligators
try to upstage this
drift from forms
to formless sages
residual wages
furnishing your cages
threadbare leather workers
raid our refrigerators
rage is impulsive
sullen lisps and swollen lips
frame our faceless daughters
in their water glasses
houses of hunted howling
hourglasses
dreamcatchers and dancers
humongous lanterns
burning pages
place-mats
on your dinner tables
why do they feel so out of place
is it the way we are made
have you any
doubts about your origins
what is the worst
thing you’ve ever faced
are you exposed
to typos regularly
tokens of penmanship
and fraternity hazings
hostelries and banquets
growth is dependent
only on intangible quotients

come, come, oh wandering one
with flaming hair and eyes of emerald

come, come, oh devouring one
with jaws clenched and hands in tightened fists

come, come, oh child of the dawn
with pearly teeth and scents of cinnamon

do not beg for mercy
for none will be delivered
only offer what is in your heart
and you will know when morning comes
if the heavens deem it worthy

you are the generative one
the seed of infinite aspiration
palaces are built in your honor
patterns of movement and measure
can never upstage your immobile empire
your nobility is inherited
its inherent in the smallest flower
its a form of dynamic retribution
for simply becoming conscious
is never really all that easy
so breathe and surround yourself
with memories of meteoric impermanance
the tragedy of seeking in your reflection
a relief from all this suffering
is symbiotically all-perceiving
that life is neither necrotic nor entropic
as every cell is erotically pulsing
and longing for its opposite
until it fully gives itself to love

what to give when there is nothing but possibility
you strip me of my mind and my pretenses
still there is a tension here
that arises from past defensiveness
last time we met we danced
and there was cohesion in your violence
your legs are two strong armies
making camp upon opposite banks of a river
you oppose everything without hesitation
and then release me into a thousand victories

i can’t control the muse
all of this is because i let you loose
come and drink from springs of truth
otherwise you’ll remain obtuse
as hyperbole is often true
and mythos plays by its own rules
and only you can ever know
if you are truly satisfied
with your own arguments
and if not let's get on with it
i’ve spent a fortune reading books
i’ve lost time killing crooks
come and lets get high awhile
before the end is near
and even this goes out of style
i am a child dancing in the sun
while you laugh at anyone
who thinks that they are
someone who really
truly knows something