As the walls wear gold,
where they wore black--
as the waking that's awoken...
as the sleeping that's slept...
the thoroughness of it all
lives us to surrender.

Live under these lights tour de force--
an atomic roar had you at: I.
I of scrimmaging ghosts, the obsessive
vouchsafe of the material world.
Coasting torn landscapes, places of wedge
and sleep...with a flood of eyes open.
Upstanding I, ****** in memorabilia--
with thought's filament flickering...
what's seen is heavied as to be believed.
(((I))) has repeated on itself to populate our
marvel...we're everywhere.

Might I bid you farewell: madame, sir?
It is in such a way of my ways that
this farewell's come.
The presence of my absence rests
everywhere...will you feel it?
Madame, sir...are the pair of you
disinclined to gather my absence?
That is, has our supernatural
acquaintance minded the material
script, merely minded the material
script?
If so, I should take this moment, as
it surely takes me, to propose my
soul.
It is such farewells that ferry us to
the supernatural, it too will mind
its script.
It is when it has minded its script...
that you will know the presence of
my absence.

A most liturgical darkness pains the spidery
veil of prey and prayed upon star.
Hardwon quietude differentiates obsolete
centers to contrive an offing.
Timeless hands go up in deflection, as to
abort the scene whose spelling could not
boast a mouth synchronous with them.
The growth spurt of insult to injury
topples the bucket of well water down the
throat.
Alas, at morning...alert me to my stable,
that I may act in accordance.

~Inside...
chirping Light outside--
strung shapes that flower...
round the neck
of the guru:
...Now~

A sunny blue sky
strong enough to speak
about being that clear...
all these buds feel as
if they're embodying
tenderness...more
and more.

~The mindless premiere

of a

tropic-colored

inwardness,

reaching...

a handful may

transfigure

a crowd of atoms...

with the

dear life of it All~

There will come
a moment when,
That which has
always read between
the lines...
will recite them
back fully...
them meaning Us
waiting on lines,
infinite...till we
mean That.