It’s a place where an enticing bay sways,
Music dancing on the misty breezes,
Humdrums of level heads mingle effortlessly,
The constant waves lap up on indigo stacks,
The sun sits bejeweled in the sky,
Sandy stalks of sugarcane sweeten the air,
Drink and pleasure abound,
Vagabonds and harlequins twirl and chant,
The dusk and the dawn live together,
Creamy silver and golden haze weather,
The aesthetic is O so grand,
Celebrations of life here in the sand.

Mad trolleys take them to the city,
The hustle and bustle reduced to saunter,
Adornments of every shape and design,
Line the alleys and canals,
Flora and fauna engrained in the DNA,
Every bit of the city breathes, sighs and laughs,
Back at the bay they all rest together,
Making love by driftwood fires,
They sing like mad poets and howl to one another,
Everyone becomes an instrument,
Everything becomes equal.

Could this possibly be real,
This feeling this view,

Bottom of the stomach,
Depths of the soul,
Could this possibly be true,
This path this way,

On top fo the skull,
Balanced on the earth,
Could you possibly be there,
This beauty, this impossible beauty.

Why am I doing this?
Is it to somehow appeal?
Having a deep desire to,
Be exposed and living,
With many bland and empty arrogances,
Somehow it’ll be different with me,

Then when all is out there,
Did it make a difference,
Constant grief for the,
Great Thought that got away,

Why do I do this chant,
It all comes out as static,
What for are those,
Playing accursedly with loud dentures,
Flapping gums,
Getting points across,
Raising eyebrows,
Glancing back at what’s just gone,
Then, by will, carry one.

Feel the dream coming through,
Let it please be true,
Silently granules fall,
Between myself and the hall,
Let the bubbling not come afloat,
Burst and that’s the last thing I wrote.

They found his head in the park this morning,
Samuel was decapitated like a king,
The trouble was that he was a fiend,
The best kind of **** you’ve ever seen,

The park where he played since his youth,
Wouldn’t have guessed it’s now his woodchip tomb,
It rolled off and plopped right there,
Everyone but the park rats were scared,

It was almost expected,
Not that surprising,
He lived off of stealing,
Must’ve ****** with the wrong guy,

When you look down the slide you can see,
The dent in the ground where Sammy’s head be,
Worlds collide and galaxies born,
At the same while,
Samuel’s head was torn,
From his body.

Completely wrapped in the beauty of it all,
Felt the ugliness grow from my chest,
Somehow there was a throbbing burst,
Started in the feet and sank up,
Ended in the throat and the heart,
It was like a shiver,
Mind freezes,
It whirls and burns,
Fingers searching and filled with ants,
Everytime that I hear them,
I can feel a aboot sitting on my grave,
Though I am alive,
Happy and Carefree,
Down in out into those shaken moments,
Just once in a while,
But enough to mention,
Maybe there’s a shockwave from these moments,
A wing flap and right next to me someone feels it,
They don’t know what to make of it,
But maybe they’d stop and stare off for the first time,
Expanded and folded outwards,
Seeing and feeling what was once a personal quake,
Jostled from the run of the mill,
Totally mindless walking the earth,
By chance O if only,
Grateful to feel O so fearful,
O how wonderful it was.

It’d be effortless like the sun setting herself,
She’d just be, natural and luminescent,
Waves of cascading and flowing radiance,
Like the snow melted and she was left,
So warm and soft and human,
Making it hard to look and breathe,
Fascinatingly enticed like a moth to flame,
She would be chaos and destruction incarnate,
But no one would realize it,
Those little, gentle breezes,
Carnivalized into buckling winds,

One look and it’d all make sense,
Fireworks racing toward the skies ringing,
Glass shattering and making mosaics blossom,
Surges of invisible hands,
The feeling of living,
Close to death,

She’d be perfect,
So dastardly so,
That she couldn’t be real,
That’d just ruin it.

Is that all we’re looking for?
The best times that we all can enjoy?
When we sit here and wonder why,
What to do next and not have an answer,
Then it all makes a crystal clear wave,
We had nothing better to do.

Sail away and traveling far,
Just like the escaping of reality,
The real and ambiguous world we live in,
Truly day to day,
Taking the good and the bad along with the divine.

Did it all make sense in the infinite,
That it didn’t really matter, the time you spent,
However magical and supreme it may  have seemed,
It didn’t really matter,
  In the grand scheme of things.