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It was an opera in that everybody had grown fat
every movement was stylized and expositional
the faintest grin
the miniscule teardrop
even an emotion that barely registered came out over-inflated;
encircled in greasepaint, underscored by full orchestration, embellished by stiff and grandiose choreography.

It was an opera in that we yawned,
shifting in our seats, checking our watches, yearning for the curtain call.

It was an opera, but it was mostly life
in that it had no final act, ending or closure.
revised in 1999 Andrew Marshall Alper
Dan Hess Feb 2021
Balanced am I upon a mountaintop
one leg cocked skyward

poised thru tethering to the gravity
of constellations woven into fate
mine energies cohabitate

Whilst glued to grinding
neath the bound surrounding
free to nearly being in conspiring
with the flow of time inside
my flailing soul
whose spiritual coalescence

belies mine essence,

blind
in the rivers
of ether
deliriously breaking
into tangents, ripple-spake
by words of power

circumstantially; expanse
condensed in resplendence;
by the intraterrestrial churn
erupted in lattice breath

whose breadth breaks,
ne’er brakes, a hatch-ed egg
this intimate visceral expositional
relay race, disgraced
in commercial 
pragmatic proximity


We
whose manifest, relegated,
dissipates our freedom

unto they who
reel in the dark
alert and ever dredged in
drudgery; disseminated
unto Us who are
fettered to leaving

There
shall, then, it coagulate

beyond bright shining Sunlight
molding in the wrought expanse

of pools running deep into streams
of eye-lit closure intermingling
in the universal anima, where light refracts
to form a mirror

Emboldened is collective perspective
Nigh mind left blind
couldst thy finding unwind thine

intertwining whence dispensed;

betrayed and evanescent
foolishly you went, alone,
into the extraneous
dry, cold 
dark

so light cuts chasms
through the third dimension
rending obsolete your sole intention
we are your very essence
learn this lesson
Any suggestions on the title?

P.S: Some of these words aren't words. I am aware of that. They make sense if you furrow your brow a bit.

— The End —