Solid,
liquid, gas
A
frigid mist at hand
Altering
consistency
Of
sleep and space
Wolf
to human
Human
to bat
Bat
escapes
With
bloody teeth
Shedding
serpent,
Regenerates
Ch-Ch-Ch…
No—for
another time
Steadfast
to the crevice
Open,
yet maritime
Adrift—in
cradle
Sifted
salt
Curated
pessimistic
The
way nostalgia feels
Crops
reaped
Into
waiting arms
Of
machines,
Machines that grind—
Gritted
tooth—
Cardboard
cogs
Processed
fast
To
the bellies
Fat
yet pseudo-free
Ch.
Ch. Ch…
Nyet.
Not yet
Beauty
blooms
Only
to fall in wilt
The
dead seed splinters
As
stem and stalk unite
A
last ditch effort
To
elicit
Ch-Ch-Ch…
Pray
for it.
Ch-Ch-Ch…
Pray
for it.
Nein. Nein. Nein.
Constipated
are the tear-drops
Pinecone-birth-decay—
Carriage
ride…stops to fix
Spoke
in wheel
Dawn
to day
Day
to dusk
Dusk
to darkness
In
God we trust
Paupers
to pulpit
Pulpit
to King
King
sneers at Queen
ALL
JESTERS FLEE
Ch.
Ch. Ch
Redact.
Perhaps
Pray
for it.
Ch.
Ch. Ch
Are
you feeling it?
I’m not!
But I can pretend
Ch-Ch-Ch. Maybe one more.
Blue
flame
Stirring
Stellar
Nova….
Bright
Pristine?
Hardly!
But It’ll
have to do.
Ch-Ch-Ch…
Changes
Turn
and face the strange.
Ch.
Ch. Ch. Changes
Turn
and face the strange.
Constipated are the tear drops..hahahaha...oh I shouldn't laugh at that as I know it supposed to be more emotional tied, but just too funny, loved that line for some weird reason. Maybe the cat needs some ch ch changes, damn right driving me mad..haha
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