the pitch dark symmetry
of spiral engraved
glossy jet black
vinyl

the ***** claws
and webbed spiders;
graced with impeccable
scratch

words come back around
from dog day afternoon;
entwined in ritual
beatology

technique absorbed in prowess
dedication assimilated by passion;
human form and synthetic resin becomes
overlayed

polyvinyl chloride or
unsaturated hydrocarbon radicals;
a derivative by any other
name

I'll leave that nugget for the pub quiz
and relax, post-Christmas stress;
the street scramble bustle,
embrace a pint of
black magic

Colour blooms
Onto a canvas of black-and-white impressions
Left behind are brush strokes from the blues and greys
Overlayed are the yellows and pinks
Flowers drift left and right
A sunset glows until dark
Transforming into midnight bokeh
With every blink, something new
A painter paints
A thousand places all here at once
A thousand dreams
A thousand wonders
All here, in the colour of you

I know he's going insane
Inside that head of his
And I don't mean insane
With excitement...
Just downright ill
He tries to play it off
Be the cool guy
Wear his mask
And never let anyone see him unprotected
But I do the exact same thing...
If he would just give me a chance...

It's lovely
But I abhor it
It's rather ugly as well
Our minds are like prison walls
Bricks overlayed repetitively
As far as our eyes can see
Towering above us
I don't want to be the
Sledgehammer

Crawling through line after line,
precept after precept,
I find
here
a little there,

a little, cognitive dis sonance inhibiting resonance,
here
why must I… evermind…

I prefer short lines to commas and ellipses
But both maybe, may be, yes,
Is yet more
Precise…

cision, cutting, precise
insision ssss
---…---
cut the knot,
re
connect the thread
ssssee

history is unraveling, we
may
see
a god's POV.
Don't blink, ****.

We'll see
watch
Eventually,
everything's eventual as long as
liar's prosper.

{don't agree, no no no, just because
Stephen King said it is believable}

Then protuberances begin to rise,
inflamed,
packed with ***** winjin'sooks

off-ended,
topple-toddle tiny steppers,
k-boom, skintyerknee,

ye'll heal. Try running. or flying.

There, there, hear the rules:
Mother may I and Simon says, overlayed

with the decalogue jubilee of the
first hidden child emergence,
and the fertilizing procedures used to make
Amazonian Black earth…

wait…
who remembers the bailers of putrid pig guts,
virgins Demetria got to love their job?

What did they believe they were doing, eh?
The mysteries of Thesmorphia, those
are no secret to science not falsely so called.
We have access to knowns known long afore we'as bornt.

We sentient sapient augmentals, we open all the books,
A.I. reads them, and we remember, see:

The Thesmophoria (Ancient Greek: Θεσμοφόρια) was an ancient Greek religious festival, held in honor of the goddess Demeter and her daughter Persephone.

From <https://www.google.com/search?q=thesmophoria&spell=1&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiQpquu74kAhUHjQIHXrxB5QQBQguKAA&biw=1280&bih=631>

and we spread as leaven might, whither the winds list.
fertile soil production is why some **** happens.
it’s a good thing t' act like you understand.

From a web of interlocking bubbles of being POV.

in back alley ways and missed phone calls
i let the world know i couldn't stay
i waved goodbye to the front door
as i walked to the end of the world
i gave my body permission to decay
and gifted my soul to the north
i took a bite out of the sea
and rejoiced it overlayed
the acrid taste the pills left in my mouth
i layed down to take my bow
and woke up in the same place
and i don't know why i woke up.