In the pursuit of death,
We are halted by the occurrence of life,
Debted to hope
And tolled by the terrene

In the proud of the night
(well past the community allowance of social mirth)
curfew has been ignored on mass

The town is flooded with its near full population
on the streets

A tension

Intelligence is lost in the mob formation
all tender that something is frowning
that a ‘big thing’ is about to happen

How do you speak out in this field ?
Town Cryer
An old fashioned post but still held
Professional,
he strikes out a pound against the atmosphere


Might I hold your attention Good People
Gods People may I bend your ear ?
Upon my authority
Mark my words
And
As Goodly subjects of our fare town
I ask that you return to your abodes
Account for your household
Barrier your threshold
Tend a warm hearth
And wait out this night
Praying as family
As unit bond
And union under Gods kind eye


The Cryer has given direction
Repeating to all the gatherings he comes upon

By his office he has told them to swear off

The public move
Infected by the nights vibration
Addled and inflamed
Disperse
Crowds coward together
And relax apart
Walking foal, new to footfall
Unsecured
Sparks in the dark
Unguided and untested
Weapons into the criminal night
New spawned characters
Fused
Laughing giddiots,
scolders,
prancers
Diners, not surgeons
Fledded on venoms
Sense riders

As their individual monsters grow they distance one another
They pepper
Repeating the town
Strays of mess opportunity
Few go straight home

A remattered night is made place
An unpracticed costume horror
No dress rehearsal here !
A remattered night is made

and then the churches
not a climbing peel
not the telling of bells
but an absense felt
a spirit skin hammering out the pressure
the clung tongues of worry
Babel Tolls

Fellowing
then following
and opposing this
A deprevision blow to the senses
a ballooning calm
A nature of electricity makes itself stage, tone
and is source of beacon
A strobe of invitation
past the the mid mark of night

Palms and hedges and drooping flowers
Redeeming my desperation for a marvel
Palms and hedges and drooping flowers
We’ll get there soon, don’t sulk, let’s go

The moon is low today, something about it
Makes me want to stay, dark green bends,
Said end of an age, not for me, worth it but
I know the Lord does not see like man-kind

Like bells, time tolls, but I’ve run distant – don’t hear ‘em
Like resurrection, time’s ignored, so I’m not afraid to hold you close
Long travels are tiresome but get you were you want to go

And finally I’m in the house of redemption like more – Morrison
It’s easy to love the more long lanes, dark hours
Won’t trade it at all, these what money’s for
Taken with soft tropic pain, I watch the moon alone
But this is bliss, maddening bliss, want it, give me bliss

The moon is bright and old, reflecting the sun
Like I do a great design. City’s a beautiful lagoon
With gems lingering in their own detention
Not it’s not decided so I’ll sing it cold, electric