his untutored mind
struggles to grasp the issues
he masturbates the thought process
while events unfold around him
he wings through the darkly lens
showing images of all matter of
profane beast imaginary
while a real one gnaws slowly upon his chest
and he relishes displaying their crude natures in ink
while the real one bleeds the marrow of his soul

a figurehead
his ability to reason is fundamentally flawed
its cracked surface
displays the madness rampant below
the grinning madman
is yourself reflecting yourself reflecting yourself

the headaches are worse today
there's the sound of thundering hoofs
like a hundred strong horse bearing down out of
the darkness
a sickness grips him
repugnant man
the ***** within
puts his sour and rotting mouth upon
his thoughts
kissing each one
with a deep light giggle of unbounded power

rumor leeches sap his strength
their constant words whispered
in his aching ear
leave nothing but the entrails of troubled thoughts
stinking and rotting in the minds eye
between the devils within and the devilish around
how is he to find a safe way
and still there is that awful thundering of hoofs
like a thousand strong horse bearing down on
naked and defenseless him

his minds eye
stripped of its pretensions
peers around the dim place
finding neither familiar nor comfort
only the strange shape of feeding things
and the feel of dirt
and filth
he masters his fear
and tentative step upon
tentative step can only release him
from this

grasping his sword he blindly strikes
at the shadows fleeting and quick
the dashing little that bite and gnaw
but they are just the dancing leaves in the summer wind
time will tell
if the untutored mind shall escape this place intact
or forfeit his future
for penny's on the pound

the version of night shifts as each person
unfolds within mind what they see
it mutates as time proceeds
a contagion of the eye
makes her sad face regal with its pure and true
beauty clean line and side cast gnawing fear
makes her soft skin a sandpaper of insecurity's
and her sexuality a landmine filled no mans land
she moves restlessly in her seated position
spreading and folding herself
like a spastic lotus flower
like a wasp confused by butterfly's

the version of night shifts once again
and the two of you stand in the
narrow shadows at the edge of a vast
pitted concrete slab
the air is thick and greasy with tropical heat
she is ****
you cannot help but to reach over and touch
she only watches your hand
thin smile on her thin lips
inside your your separate minds
you each hold separate conversations silently
imagine the dreamlike responses
the version of night strains as she slowly
dresses and you silently walk
side by side into the the darkness
back to the noise room
back to the chair she cried in
back to the floor you feared

the version of night is fluid
like a infected river
it flows thru her veins as she
injects another dose of crying and coughs
breathing heavy
you sit cross legged at her feet
an apostle to the teaching that
beauty is no measure of destiny its only a means
a student of the humanities isolated and afraid
by a spastic lotus flower
a wasp confused by butterfly's

she batters down the defenses
contagion of perceive then process
that becomes reality governs her motive
it mutates as time proceeds
lies repeated become fact because they were spoken
so much they defied truths razor
fact becomes fiction
as truth is distorted in the crucible of
think think think think think
as truth is hammered clean of impuritys
and worked by the hands of the mind
into a better package
a more palatable lie

help me
help her
the night is unsympathetic
as she injects
cough
touch
sweat panting for abundant air
this is a killing cycle

the carve of morning light
is hard against the grain
but i navigate its demure maiden
and her demands of devotion
and set out alone for the beach to find the
goddess of night

there along the boston post road
laying in the thick miami sun
with her scented petals and potions in small containers
she lingers her wet lips behind the crisp cold glass and watches
the vivid colours of the flowers and regalia
backdrop her thoughts as she waits for a setting sun

languishing in the ****** tropical night
adorned with only moonlights kiss
she reclines on soft warm sand
with her attentive lovers caress
and give sweet voice to their wanton carnal dreams

her lovers
both man and woman speak to her with
gentle kisses from such tender loves
and with such burning naked lusts
that it feels like they are feasting upon her with
their lips and hands
a deep longing and powerful tide of ecstasy's warmth
washes over her
she releases herself to its pleasures

afterwards with a lingering hand
she bids her lovers farewell
and wistfully walks barefoot up the sandy shore
carrying her sandals and basket of rhymes
she will flee north only to return
like a changing of seasons
to this empty stretch of beach this time next year
to find her lovers once again
and know once more the carefree loves and wanton desires

as day is gently washed away
on the sounds of her voice whispered sweetly
the tangle of words slip quiet into the
slumber of my heart
waking the dreams always near
the true ones of loves under cloudless stars spinning
the beautiful thunder of hot passions tender kiss
the one where its just two lovers forevermore
waking my eyes to you
as day is gently washed away

she was given to tragic speechs
at a whisper in the rainswept night
at the top of the cliff
overlooking the bay
the same place she sat and watched his
ship set off to sea
she still remembers seeing him
there high in the rigging
unfurling the sail
and recalls that he may have waved fare thee well
that the last time she would ever see him
the last voyage
of that schooner
which lay broken at the bottom
of some distant sea
with all hands forever to stand at the rail
looking for homecoming
forever seek familiar shore
for a wave dancers last waltz
and there they shall lay
brothers of the sea keeping eternal watch
while pulling line
and singing songs handed down
generation of seafarer to the next
she dreams of him tonight
as she lay thirty year distant
from that stormy night
thirty years waiting to go join him
in the halls of the Almighty's kingdom

his heavy face drags his head down her shirt
pleads innocence but the grin on his
face calls him a liar liar pants on fire
she just nods knowingly and unbuttons the next one down
cause she has been through the catalogue of this fools parade
and knows a good catch when she has her hooks in him
he starts flapping his arms like a fish outa water
we all just laugh we all been there
we all been a bird in the air

i make coffee but they are intent on the the sideshow
taking place on the couch
i turn to find the girls choir locked in dire straights
with the ****** circus clowns
they will be singing the blues soon enough
cause we all got a price to pay
when the penny comes to a pound
when the carpet bagger comes to call
and the price you pay equal
to the tears you lay

i sit back and light up the room with my handy dandy
nightwatchman flashlight
but soon realize that there are things here id rather not see
as the girls choir gets down and ***** with the clowns
they would rather have a warm bed now
than the cold promise of better kitchens two car garage tomorrow
and im not one to say they are wrong
iv swallowed enough swords
iv seen enough of the bitter bread
so make some room sweetheart
cause you look like you could use some company down there
in your dark corner of the strange parade...
is that a horse head you have on?

this room gets real wild at a quarter to three
the old man has come down
and is talking up the future to some young honey
who knows better but has an eye on his wallet
we all got a price to pay
he gonna give up his riches
shes gonna give up her dreams
all got a price to pay
when  the carpet bagger comes to call

i shake off the dawn
and stumble out to the street
look back to find the whole circus waving goodbye
they all look so happy and content
even the ones with the bloodstains
but that's the price i gotta pay
looks so pretty from this far down the road
looks so warm and inviting with their smiles and lollipops
the circus clowns and the pregnant girls choir
even she seems friendly
in the heat haze of the long hours away
but something reminds me of all her warts
all her filthy fingers grabbing at the shirt-tail
he eyes pleading a different case before the high court
of her own self doubts

when the carpet bagger comes to call
he opens his bag of tricks
and shows you a world of wonder
all glitter and lights
but it isnt till the bill is due
that you remember we all got a price to pay
we all are fish out of water