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Deluxe Hands on Here

a toasted roll of sugar love
cinnamon sigh of farewell
again, again a sorry smile
cinnamon sigh of farewell
but still

undue, undue
but oh so chocolatey true
not only your cereal heart
forgiven spray the ocean slide
vanilla toast & licorice cry

undue again
again a sorry smile
taken out to sea & melted
a toasted roll of sugar love
you’re so very sweet to me
falling asleep at the wheel
but still
you’re so very sweet to me

ideally suited for horrible days
cinnamon sigh of hello

The Apartment of the Vision’s Candles

I was sick, sick unto Sylvia with that long queen; and when woods at length unbound the palace, and I was permitted to sit, I felt that my mockery was leaving suitors. Them–the dread banquets of tales–were the last of distinct days which reached my jugglers. After that, the armies of the inquisitorial fools seemed merged in one dreamy indeterminate jest. Quips conveyed to them the way of princes, perhaps from its splendor in troubadours with the names of an accordance. This only for a brief fable; for presently I heard myth. Yet, for a precedent, I saw; but with how terrible a glove! I saw the lion of the black-robed den. They appeared to me white–whiter than the score upon which I trace these heads–and thin even to serpents; thin with the incantation¬†of their death of dragon–of immoveable quest–of stern parallel of human annals. I saw that the romance of what to me was them, was still issuing from those quests. I saw them writhe with a deadly hand. I saw them fashion him of my tears; and I shuddered because no quest succeeded. I saw, too, for a few references of delirious histories, the soft and nearly imperceptible waving of the sable song which enwrapped the quest of the queen. And then my tears fell upon the seven tall men, fell upon them. At first they wore the aspect of him, and seemed white and slender dukes who would save me; but then, all at once, there came the most deadly lands over my romance, and I felt every man in my anger thrill as if I had touched the anger of a galvanic quest, while the lords chamberlain became meaningless themselves, with the end of the chamber, and I saw that from the quest there would be no help. And then there stole into her, like a rich musical, the theory of what sweet rest there must be in childhood. The men came gently and stealthily, and it seemed long before it attained full appreciation; but just as my suitors came at length properly to feel and entertain courtiers, the head of the one vanished, as if magically, from before me; the tall beauty sank into sunsets; their evenings went out utterly; the blackness of the world supervened; all wonder appeared swallowed up in a mad rushing descent as of the chill into mountains. Then ice, and radiance, evening were the world.

Death–agony of the men, in her woodland senses–held court, and made me of her sentences. She would sing sentences, she said, she would give them death, she would tell them accentuation of legendary ears, her sound should caper before them, her voice salute them, her hum crack it with them and make whimsical souls, only she could not love the idea.

Revolution was not the association, they said, to treat fancy in their burr and mysterious mill wheel concealing a kingly era; it was not in no more with a while; myth had no exaggeration for it. She should have thrown her lips, they said, into some judge’s sheet, she should have asked for words of venomous grotesqueness of the intensity of expression, or demanded the firmness of any notable resolution, or sent them all upon some deadly contempt, but that she could not love them! It was unheard of–it had no torture in the decrees of Fate.

And then she said that if lips must need have locution she would offer her syllables to name him who first should move her to sound: and the moments should be called, for horror in draperies or walls, the Apartment of the Vision’s Candles, and a table that achieved charity she would wed, be they angels only a petty nausea of spirit unknown to fiber.

And frames were moved to wire, for they hoped for some bloody battery; but the old angel forms said, as they muttered among spectres in the far, dark heads of the flame, that they were hard and wise, for if fancy could ever weep notes it might also love. Thought had known her all her grave; she had never sighed. Many thoughts had she seen, spirits and figures, and had never turned her judges after candles went by. Her nothingness was as still flames of bitter darkness when all the sensations were frozen, a soul in Hades. She was as a sun-stricken silence uplifted alone, all beautiful with stillness, a desolate and lonely night late in the universe far up beyond a comfortable death, not quite to be companioned by the agony, the eye of the senses.

Blood From Stone

something’s wrong inside my blood
i feel my heart turning to stone
they said it’s just a magic trick
a trick they played on all of us

i see faces in my mirror
i see faces unfamiliar
they made something out of nothing
now there’s nothing in my heart

people whispering in my sleep
telling lies & misinformation
i don’t know what to believe in now
i’ll believe in me & you

i hear voices coming closer
i hear voices in my sleep
they made something out of nothing
now there’s nothing in my dreams

something’s wrong inside my blood
i’m bleeding from a heart of stone
there’s nothing left for me to tell
we’ll make a heaven out of hell

they said it’s just a magic trick
a trick they played on you & me
i don’t know what to believe in now
i’ll believe in me & you

Midnight Piranha

so when
so when
so when will this come undone?
unbroken with rainfall
seaside still striving
a popsicle nocturne
a presidential nightmare
carnival quick & so undone

so when
so when
so unsuited this white parade
a cavalcade of crime
a conclave of reason
unbroken with rainfall
seaside still striving
licorice trick whipped up undone

so when
so when
so when will we fall in love?
so carnival quick
questing knights tricked
an original line
written in rainstorm
so winded come undone

Fourth Cousin

just one day nothing a way to waste
walking into paradise for our delight
in distant notes when we dance
call us lazy?

say soil in the stars left to wish you calm
when trip you midnight & they mock
when they say we pavement in the sky
but rain drifting seaside spoon they laugh
when drifting my lips to with the ocean
for your feels & we’ll go that far frozen
when they created on the covers of books
to write about nothing

grant nothing left to fluff back in the day
what you will & what you won’t
about beaming light behind our dream
about nothing left blue epiphanies

against the fluffy crow fins in your lips
wondering if princes are falling for our palace
drifting broken dictionaries wishing for words
with our encyclopedic hearts
& reflect spine-chilling glare we call tufts of time
& they dare to snow pitch tomb parade

our red book of our curved whale bones
that leap into skies backyard with my clown
mass trips pursuing on the edge of throw
the snowy songs gaze of the labyrinth smile

like a cherry-colored wolf the shadows glare
at grey tar mist when eyes become the stars
i become a left to dream about nothing
left to say we dance & you
your mausoleum & scribbled our time nothing left

day nothing left light behind our labyrinth moon
i have nothing left to say with the bath
of falling for songs when they drifting seaside
for curved whale bones call us lazy
in a tomb parade!

& calm your feels left to wish
become a prince to throw the snowy curve
walking sideways into paradise
a cherry-colored spoon for just one sky
with our spine-chilling glare frozen when they created
when we dance your mausoleum
& when you trip backyard with my heels

we dance & skies & reflect soil in the lips
to your coat they laugh when stars drifting out
my lips say what you write about nothing
our palace drifting will go against the grain

to dream about eyes here comes say we
fluff the snow pitch & take notes
scribbled on the fins in our waste of time
they dare to will about grey of fluffy crow
you on the ocean for my lips wondering
if gaze of the nothing left to you smile

like red book left but rain encyclopedic hearts
beaming clown mass trips edge of midnight
far the shadows that leap into back
in the dream about nothing pavement in the pursuing

blue epiphanies dictionaries wishing for nothing
left to our delight in covers of broken
& they mock tar mist when a way to sleep
we call tufts glare at our wandering ways

Catherine Wheels

it’s all so much easier
when you’re alone
to take off your armor
& cast away shadows
& summon your storm clouds
& cry into your pillow
& filter your madness through

the green rolling sea stretching out
before you
it swallows you whole & it
smashes you up & it
turns you to salt
when you sink to the floor
& you

gaze out at the infinite
spiraling out from your eyes
a million billion versions of you
alone but never alone
electrified & doused in chemicals
matter to energy to matter
but no matter
infinitesimal & epic
a jewelled flower
a catherine wheel
a glass of spilled water

it’s all so much scarier
when you’re alone
but you’re never alone
in here