Shh, Athena sleeps in this corridor
of ringing and piercing hums, silence
draws a halo above my head, drops
biting waves of iciness on my crane

Headache drinks my kernel's red
blooded wine, ***** sobriety out of my
cracked brain, till I find myself on a sofa,
humming jokes, in morphine's shelter

As my ups and downs are rotating like I
do, my plumes are growing bigger and
thicker, all of my sub-selves are drifting,
breaking like glasses put in a hot oven

When coconut butter begins melting,
fading with winters and twisted springs
I plunge a spoon inside of this jar of oil,
and paint a warm sunny span's tableau

Some nights when fireworks can't stop,
I sense like I'm the craziest man on
earth, I find the cream of the cream,
under mountains sleeping on poor hills

On my path back to Lucifer's trap, with a
plastic bag in my hand, I'm a plane
about to crash on a metropolis, I'm just
a passing butterfly, daze's tongue says

My only fault is that I'm born here, as a
gentleman in a world of flares and pigs
I'm seen as a bird hostage, carrying an
outcast's life on my back, while I die in

So, I'm enchained by dark knights, to
this rotation, I'm typing and killing
myself and seconds that enslaves me
and my breathing body, in gravity's den

I see devotees of sweet-talk, with their
mouths flying all over tea drinkers,
cuddling their pillows, while tobacco
splashes coffee on cigarette igniters

Bankers with money of all tints,
throwing it on actors, fragrance makers,
writers and poets like me, iconic
musicians, singers, and top models

Saturdays, and biscuits poured in milk,
surrounded by blue skies, and poppy
fields, sharing colorful frequencies,
clear fluid in streams, and traffic fluidity

Reflections of broken mirrors on
abandoned chandeliers, missing their
candles, sending muddy rain aromas,
and rust eating window shutters

Displaced flattery icing liquid joys,
slowly turning happy faces into blues,
and bullied teenagers savoring sweet
fruits of dead scars, in adulthood

Wax dolls showing their flexible body
parts, on shores, and seashells pushing
lovers and friends on their beach walks,
to put them in their bag of souvenirs

All waiting under a burning yolk,
making a bed for me, with tied arms, and the
nearer I'm, the more they scream, until I
fall on them, and they hush shh shh shh