We had troublesome bones and almond eyes-
That thought violins would never go to War.
So Guitar.

We elapse
where our frailties hold Court…
So far better to rebel -
then to almost be less perfect
than Broken.

By Design.
Where it’s
Hell.

II


Burning Bridges where a Door is a Worm
In a Bowl full of Doors… you have only your Fate
And shamrocks gobsmacked in the matter
of your business with Always.
You do no harm
where the trains go
but keep your Station
where the Holes
Track.

You Aether where the World Sea
Is as Flat as a Wish…
But Never do you
Constantly
Remove.