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Louche tang of the berthafly ink on your nape
has me flushed glutton for its underclass umami.
'Cross a Newkie Brown kristallnacht-scape,
you: hither, blacken ballet pumps from Primani.

No rugbytackle on a hungry subtle jackal,
but it's risky (tho', tbf, not that risky)
to smuggle rumpled, prisonrolled rosepetals
int'a Dean Rhetoric afterworld for Daddy.

Whilst lukewarm ****'s a phoenix's acronyx,
asbestos gelos defervesces not, my frisky
alderliefest ticklish like Chi-nickel crucifix.
Life's too brisk: fake a risk (in itself quite risky).

A poet's the kinda herbert in Herbert Pocket's pocket,
who thinks risque lagniappe from Aganippe
is lock of autumnal pubarche from Humbert Humbert's locket,
in sink where gooseberries were electrolysised lately.

Flightless bard 'mid diorama of nephograms
(steppensheep nebula, staffage in matteshot sky),
*****, erm, Withwords, who broadsides how wrong I am:
'Heart's excrescences risk poesy's arty chokey'.

In rejectionslip braille hail, papercut rain
of masterpiece confetti do we live dangerously,
in mastertape conshreddi of 99 bandnames.
But headliner suicides win poetry lottery.

Shelley stunt of dying strangely, strangely young
cures a vocabullinachinashoplairy,
becomes Voynich manuscrap of Symbolist shantung.
Full circle: silk wormfood determines vellumworthy.

Vicious circle: rosa rosa razor est est.
Vicious Coriolis: life plugholing w/ the hoary
sullage, balneal bisnatchizzle, a stringvest-
al Virgil's dregs refresh t'highwater Dante.

For what BBQpid matchmakes man w/ Beatrice,
Stonkahontas tormeting an odd 'n' furry
berk, poet whose amrita is thridace
strain of th'infidelity toxin, Beauty.

Which is how the risky Manic defined the
entartete source of fishy fiances,
la beaute du diable. But hybristophilia
to scorpions of Venus, to Hell on a tray,

is flipbride of poet wailing to be her DWEM lover,
a foxynoxynihilipilification proxy
for transfiguration by association w/ bete noir
of Beauty: beta noir bards are Death's humerus candy.
bisnatchizzle = a *****'s ***** hair
Lifelong deserted on forsaken isle
Bode alone on Patmos, John in exile
The last of God’s apostles whilst ‘ere on earth
Survived to be banished for professing rebirth
And though secluded to but himself muse
Seclusion to stifle would be of no use
For the One who holds men in the palm of His hand
Can work all His purposes through any man
Either be he at home
Or on isle alone

Visited on island, by God for His work
On sending a message from Him to His Church
A vision received he must send to address
Their troubles and worries God ached to redress
And encourage the faithful who endured so much pain
That they’re not forgotten, and they mustn’t wane
For God does not oft reason missives direct
Unless He saw need to bring retrospect
Of mortal Time’s end
For His Body and all men

“To those in Ephesus, who are ready to test
Many a false prophet has been exposed from the rest
And long you braved such painstaking trial
Unwilling to bend under oppression vile
But though you are strong, shortsighted you remain
You have forgotten why you fight and withstand the bane
For it is I, your greatest Admirer, that came down for you
And did, out of love, only what I could do
Make Me foremost when comes the worst
And remember that I loved you first

“To the faithful in Smyrna, persisting though poor
You labor, heavy laden by the burden I bore
But be not discouraged, for you work not in vain
In spirit you are rich, Heaven’s glory to gain
So be mindful of this, for what lies ahead
For sufferings ‘ave not past, but will worsen instead
Men will confine you and your hands will they bind
But press on ‘til death, and life you will find
Your body, cast down
Will I make your crown

“To Mine in Pergamum, in Satan’s dwelling
You have been loyal, your perseverance telling
To proclaim Me and my name, and Me not deny
Hell and its sons are left to surmise
But there are those of you who hold fast to falsities
Accepting many sin and foul immoralities
Now you must turn away and you must not consent
And of these teachings, refute and repent
‘Else I will come nigh
And level these lies

“Of Thyatira, Mine in My service
Though by no merit, your faith do I cherish
You have grown much and your good work matures
Your deeds have been proof of that Hope which endures
Be wary, though, if I condemn whom you host
For Jezebel is among you, and her sin is her boast
My grace she has scoffed, and repentance she has shunned
So now I will afflict her, and undo all she’s wrung
Brook not her ways
Holdfast all your days

“To the saved in Sardis who are seemingly dead
Slumbering prostrate on your spirit’s bed
For I will come as a thief in the night
And to sleep then is to sleep for all time
Your works, incomplete, will slowly fade
And your deeds are unfinished, which you have made
Awake! Awake now, and strengthen what’s left
Arise! Arise now, this cross you must heft
Teach the lost of Me, to learn
Ever to be vigilant of My return

“To those in Philadelphia, unwavering in truth
A door I have a opened, and set before you
None may close it, and to pass through’s your right
For by your weakness have you shown My might
You kept my Word and in affliction did not cower
And so I will keep you from trials in that hour
For a day will come when the world I will test
To discern between men my disciples from the rest
And you I will set apart
For I already know your heart

“And finally to Laodicea, who is rich in this world
But revealed ‘neath is poverty when the mast is unfurled
You claim need of nothing, satisfied with your state
Instead, I see lacking that destines your fate
You are tepid in spirit and to sip suit Me not
You bear for Me no fervor; neither are you cold nor are you hot
In spite of your lack, know that I love whom I reprove
So be arduous now, be it Me whom you choose
I knock at your door
I desire of you more

“Hear me now, and heed what I say
Overcome this world, break night with your day
For from eternal death will I come and you save
I will clothe you in white and give you a new name
I will confer you the nations to rule with My hand
I will confess your name before God and before man
You will be the pillars that brace up My home
And you will sit down with Me on My throne
For from temporal pain
Springs everlasting gain”

These words in a vision did God, to John, speak
And this message did He will for the churches to reach
Admonishing their triumphs, and where they fell short
Encouraging them to, in Him, always resort
And realizing this may we ever conclude
That without Him we have all there is to lose
For it is by Him that we have come to be
But the choice is ours, where we spend eternity
A choice before us is laid
Whom we will choose to serve this day

This choice, inescapable, either brings death or brings life
And our decision will last beyond the end of all time.
Taken from Revelation 1:4 - 3:22

— The End —