Friday, April 8, 2011


Rests solemnly

Upon shoulders of wildebeests
And tectonic submissive wisps

Cajole, commanded the sailor

The old swashbuckling ageless one,
Twisting salty barbs under raspberry

Moon falls and caraway masquerade balls,
I’m beside myself in reflection at the moment,

Amazed nausea has not begged me for a slow song yet,
Critical mass to a vector expanding

By the moment, in the mirage,
Away from cape whatever and into the stalls

Behind the out of business planetarium,
Yes the one with the boards upon the doors and windows,

But there is a secret trick, the basement third from the farthest
End, a homeless dude smashed the glass and no one has paid to

Get it fixed, resulting in bloody vagrants sliding in and out,
But the point of interest I’m getting to, is that on our first date,

I’m not being cheap, but just hear me out,
They still pay for the electricity,

And what better way to spend the evening with the one you care
So deeply for, then to lean back in old, somewhat cushy chairs,

In the darkness amongst constellations and the stars

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