As fences are felons we take turns
Tearing them all to little pieces
Palaces fall in the morning
For they alert us of our tiny perspectives
We sell our breath to the haggard
The hecklers can take
These letters of recommendation to the grave with them
I would rather take you to bed with me
But you are not ready to let me
Imbibe that watery something yet
It's like honey without the bees or the bumbling
We are troubled by troops of covetous warriors
Awarding our appetites with only knives and comforters

We are trespassing on heaven
Reserving the feminine principle
I guess we cannot even name it
Her lips separate the chasm
In my heart a spasm of inspiration
Whenever she utters her nastiness
We detain ourselves
In our separate bedrooms
I consume the rooms that you've divided
And my feathers resume to guide you
At night I fan my enemy's flames and reside
Inside the lightness of your being
Can we see the silent apocryphal
Or do we cancel the hidden apogee
Of our mythic rejuvenation
You are amazed by this preventative medicine
Yet find it strange when someone doesn't try to save you

What's of importance is that we are recurring nightmares
Observing the relativity of nimble beings
Bouncing on our tummies
We are trumpets ordering the end of the hours
We are doubts that have no uncertainty left
We are sheltering regrets
Wet with heaviness and our own importance
We may be forgetting something but it's unclear
What memory is really for anyway
So we soar among the shores of libertine mosaics
Faking our aspirations so we don’t seem too unambitious
I'm ambivalent really to the sounds of your laughter
Captivating the captors of our harmonic excavations
We shave the faces of our leftover neighbors
We create masquerades that look like parades of paper mache
We are too fresh to stay awake all day
And let them drain our brains of orange flowers
While we are floundering in the fountains of our campaigns
To correct these collective imbalances

Jungles of nakedness
Grow into entangled gardens
You make it appear really easy
Yet in someone else's definition of reality
It's actually quite dangerous
Let alone difficult and terrifying
Still there’s nothing out of the ordinary
Just more of my oneiric meandering
You see its a bit like gambling on love
We say we trust the unconscious
But not enough to let it lead us there entirely
So instead we treat ourselves
To anything but the taste of our own sorrow

I am imagining the active particle
The noun inevitably becomes a weapon
And the verb seeks it's naked rations
Of relative invigoration
We are actually traveling
Among our own relatives
While sisters deepen dents in their own bellies
We make the things that happen to salty sirens
As hundreds of huddled fishes
Whisper poems to the lips of elderly singers
Still we are just showmen singing for our dinners
What truly matters is can we listen
Or do we snicker at the working stiffs
Who bring liberal deposits of consciousness
To the empty coffers of our impermanent imaginations

There is no need to agree with me
I see your love being used sparingly, as it is
We already share the same tree of life
And fuel is only as bright as the ultimate, really
We come from hundreds of angels wrestling
Welcoming the shared commodity of love
Back into our shattered skylines and economies
Consternation was constructed from dust
So we encrusted rubies and revolved on our butts
I trusted you to crush me correctly
Instead you became funny
And money fell from your fingertips
Now we bring humor to the dying
In lingering dreams of the aristocracy
Among the other moondancers
We alone fancy a rush of nothingness
When less than a decade ago
We could still find lookouts for our shadows
I resume the music as fumes drip vaporous
And campaigns to elect our democratic fathers
Are merely shambles of something
That once enraged us but now just ramble on forever
Until we can't wait to end all this target practice
But we are still mere artifacts of human hammering
Instantly building our secret languages
Where we will speak nothing but tired gibberish
To a enlightened community of solipsistic symbolists

Intangible apprentices
Of questionable benevolence
The bottom line is often unfavorable
To be or to do is irrelevant
If you're covered in ******
There's only a fragrant imperative