I’m coining a phrase in the cheap seats.
On a balcony behind the projector.
My wine flask has red names for Polaroids
And fishnet eyelids like a wizard
with a joke face
at a serious
party.

i snoop for books in Unpolished eyes-
and find them leather-bound
to a howling calliope
of hushed gods
in real time,,,
haranguing
the flesh
in bouts
of unbridled
Clarity.

I encroach upon a node of conspicuous samadhi
with all the fearsome brittle of my inner destroy

Something Creates
where my Null sets a coarse by a star
coughing up a lung
in a Cherub’s
Song.

I keep my Puppets
in a Sock
because that’s
Funny.

and that's how
you Pretzel
a Butterfly

for no money,