the pitch dark symmetry
of spiral engraved
glossy jet black
vinyl

the ***** claws
and webbed spiders;
graced with impeccable
scratch

words come back around
from dog day afternoon;
entwined in ritual
beatology

technique absorbed in prowess
dedication assimilated by passion;
human form and synthetic resin becomes
overlayed

polyvinyl chloride or
unsaturated hydrocarbon radicals;
a derivative by any other
name

I'll leave that nugget for the pub quiz
and relax, post-Christmas stress;
the street scramble bustle,
embrace a pint of
black magic

and the little white girls walk in
with their school sweats on,
smilin' all precious innocent like
with hair that never goes awry.

and the dictionary is tellin’ me
words ive been using for years
never really existed, and then
i look’d up existential crisis.

and the cold wind turns tan’d
skin pale as blood recedes to
more important portions of a
body preferenc’d warmer times.

and the words i have to say
i want to erase without a second
notion, but i cannot for fear of
loss of thoughts not yet conceived.

and the knowledge of having been a
mystic misplaced, once recess’d
to a span of  sleeping lives
allow’d to be found incarnate.

“ . . and even if, crazed, he ends up
by losing the understanding of his visions,
at least he has seen them!”
content’d the loss of action to thought.

and i write from uninspired
mind bog’d by quips of past.
      the sixth principle is the sixth principle.
reminders of past negligence
and of harm befell.
      nine. no one knows everything.
and i burst with rage over the details.
pointless aggression in haste of thought.
      the second principle is a state of mind
i will not be obvious for there is
no interest in the plain-sighted.
      the fourth principle is the one and only woman.
i am eccentric   -  am weird  -
and my body hums with intensity.
      two. youll never be alone here on Earth.
long gone are the times of hands to air,
phrase having replaced the physical act –
           **** it –
and i have moved on in inconsistency,
expressing to word one-sided memories.
      third. this is important. this is it.

It was I who enslaved me,
  And you who set me free.

You stole my warmth
  When all I wanted was the cold.

You drank all my glucose
  And left me bone dry

But I like the bitter,
  And I like the bite

Because things are much safer
  Up at this height.

So I bid you adieu
  And curtsy from above.

I do ask one thing though, my love,
  Keep my heart, for I have no use for it now

An emotionless temptress
  With vengeance behind these eyes.