he awaits the brittle thought
its naked vocal is neat and clean
it comes to him from the open window
overlooking Cinderella's shop of horrors
her glass slipper now
serves as a wine glass to the gluttony
of the desperately affectionate old men
who would melt at the thought of even her smile

the brittle thought arrives
and he unpacks its pieces parts
and assembles himself in their divine image
now a brittle man
he wears his fractured frailty with
a dignified pride
take one for the team his new catchphrase
the pieces parts swallowed wholesale
become the recycled food for thought
in the hipster gypsy's coffeehouse

the brittle thought
is more than a concept
its a grassroots movement
to be one of the pieces parts
left in the wake of the slowly sinking titanic of sanity
the brittle thought is there
is more than a con artist pulling
off his masterpiece
its a game show host doing a miami vacation
its a dollar store version in a Ritz Carlton lifestyle

Cinderella's  shop of horrors
is just his kind of place
filled with the recycled gods and devils
that made the old world such a colourful
place to live
Cinderella is giving away all expense paid
trips for one to be lunch
the privilege of being fed to lions
is not to be missed
the brittle thought finally breaks
he walks home in the rain
grateful to eat lunch not be it

the hollow man come calling
his crown of fig leaves
is tinged brown with decay
he carries a scent of late fall
and the woodsmoke of homestead cookfires
he bears with him a satchel made of skin
inside are the measures of madness
and the tools of his craft
he comes calling
to your door
sit with him at you table of plenty
and let him feast at his leasure
let him bide his time
and take his rest upon your finest linens
give him your silk shirt
and your skilled leather boot
fore this hollow man is one
who's displeasure you care not to seek
the hollow man come calling
to the headstone and the friars chapel
the hollow man and his empty echo of words
speaks in pig latin
foretelling all and yet nothing
his cold touch is bone thin
and he leaves behind a
letter handwritten on parchment
that smells faintly of bandages and
a metallic cinnamon
the letter gives the day and hour of your passing
and the ultimate meaning of your life
the cost of all the things you accomplished
and the regrets of all thouse you have loved
the hollow man
is waiting
for each of us
with a letter addressed to each
he is but a delivery boy
for the inevitable

there are significant sings
that tomorrow is near
and she try's hard to be
as small as possible so she wont get noticed
when it gets here with all
its wide awake hangers on
the blind to all else masses trying to get to work

she pours you a tepid coffee
clears you a spot next to her
behind the dumpster
her cool eyes betrayed the moment
and set fire to the heels
of the urgent messenger
who riding a pale sick horse
rode promptly into the night
becoming as lost as her in
the complex visions

her open shirt feasts on your eyes
it breeds on the verge of your conscious mind
and sends its small creatures invading
your contradictions with the
unfailing reasons to fail
it breeds an urge to touch things not your own
and they taught you in school to
be polite and ask first
contradictions are the devilish whim of the world

once the talk of the town
she took her tattered beauty queen crown
and stole away
down the alley
her dozen stray cats are her minions
the loading dock her empire
and she is happy
and that's more than all the
fanatical fashion rich girls got

she sketches masterpieces
in a spiral wide ruled notebook
fine line art that tells stories
the stories never end
the people in them never age or change
they never get sad and move away
never stop being who they were that day
never stop being who you thought they were
never get angry and say mean things
they never like mom and dad

we go to shooters lane
and get her natural benefits package
and to the broken house
there is nothing missing this is how it ends
here in the dank darkness of shooters game
her knight in shinning armour is Lancelot
she can almost see him in
the pale light greasy and thin
hangs from the ceiling
and is disturbed by flickers
like a modern candle

you appear to the bright sunlight
steps away from the kingdom of night
miles away from where you just stepped from

i lay down to rest
after the long toils of the day
and as i slipped into slumber
a ray of sunlight did touch me
and within it i did perceive
a great host of marching souls
a vast column of men in ordered lines
and the cost i knew would be wrought upon them
the price of the free
the young and the old
the brave and thouse who's stout heart
the battlefield robbed them of life
looked into their eyes
saw there my brother father friend
saw the strong and the good brave men
marching off to defend hearth and home
and as this great host passed by
with a thundering din
of marching feet
i did stand with my head bowed
and tears streaming for the young who will
be entombed in the ranks of graves of the fallen
and for thouse who came back with their lives but
never to be whole in limb or mind again
for all of us
that such a terrible price must be lain
at the alter of freedom
lest we fall to the hand of tyrants
lest we fall to the hands of the
lesser men who create greater evils
we can only hope and pray that our path
has not lead us astray
that this precious blood was not spilled for naught
that freedom has been defended
from a terrible fate

gathering dusk shrouds her
her voice pale and drawn
reaches me in a quiet storm of words
pale rider in the salt rain of her regrets
the armour shows the ready malice of intent
but the armour is tin foil
and the straw man fails to show a face
when his laughter is disrobed at its weakness
slowly the rider moves
devoid of expression on its painted face
a japanese folk song plays distant and tinny
as if from a cheap transistor radio
its forlorn singer pleads her knowledge
but the world had no response
but the steady pouring rain

the gathering dusk
he like the common household illustration
of poison control
'do not swallow'
is etched on his forehead
but the epitaph is oh so often ignored
he adjusts his fractured glasses
on the imbalance of his face
and grins the broken line of teeth
a warm inviting laugh full of happy intents
bubbles from within
he looks out from within the battered vessel of his life
and wishes in vain

in the border town
they meet
in the grainy and harsh candlelight
in the broke down cabin
at the woods edge
a pale rider and her now intimate companion
who's waterlogged life now
hangs in the balance of his random words
this is no tale of whimsical musing
this is the narration of enduring pieces of my life
frozen in the moment
and pasted with caricature to illustrate
the methods of madness not my own

she get up from the table
having finished her meal
washes her dish
and melts into the bed
without a trace of her words
or the darkness that she birthed