The Rave-A Stream of Consciousness Groove

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Ten Thousand lights Ca-rash unto

My resurrection, finding fault-lines

In all my mis-directions—kissing, coddling,

Cuddling up, to all the baron ketones submerged

Deep within my blood—collapse, regain-composure

Malignancy benign—hewing down the tripping thrush—

Pushing clutter—mussing dust—painting ridges upon the

Smooth—acting out when polity’s abused—dance alone to

Gain attention, free the arms and let the torso flow so—

When the eyes don’t care and the mind gets hollow—short or tall,

Big or small, the legs will follow the hollow die, rapping around in orbital floe, icy free to take the warming’s place, so much freedom, no need to trace, just sprawl about until you feel your captor’s face, teedle-di-deedle-e-dum- fe-fi-fo-fuming for fun, trance ignites in the emptiness of night—when shadows don’t react to light, they just groove till their mood is tight—flipping out into other’s sides, turn to see the smiles fly—never hearing the why, only doing what the feeling shows, ever long the emotions grow…

Out of breath, on a bench, sweat drips down the tile below, niacin flush upon the skin, hair drenched, clotted thin, opening up each pore, entering the steam created here—exhausted but alive, forever and a night

Pied Piper

Crumbling Bleu rock of delicious

Flavor detour just past that next stretch of activity

Where the rain sewers overflow is mingling with the stagnant runoff,

Still, two days later, hasn’t found its way to the drainage ditch,

Perfect example of design providing useful everyday convenience and in this case,

An example of why roads should be designed to brush the rain water off towards the curb,

Silver flute-like device casting tiny tinny musical notes throughout the

Arborous wind, reveling in the moonlit sky, travelling alongside the clouds and constantly

Testing challenging each note to outdo the distance of the note before,

I hear the melody each evening, yet I hear it like a soundtrack to my wandering dreams,

Is it the sound that triggers the dreams or simply the dream is on-going, but easy going enough

To allow the sound the general ease it requires in latching on neatly?

I really don’t think it matters, but this imagined place my soul transports too, I believe merits attention,

I’m wandering the greenest field I’ve ever been accustomed to seeing, now that I think of it, while still

Resting freshly upon my tongue, the roads are non-existent in this dream-thrum, a green field of grass

Surrounded by muddy roads and clay built homes, so I’m dancing like a clown without a care in the

World, when all of a sudden, out of the sky falls this mystical, magical flute, and a boy just as

Spontaneously arrives at my side, he’s speaking Italian, which I unwittingly understand fluently,

He begs me to play him a song, play it loud so every person will awaken and the entire world will

Become my greatest fans,

The offer, too good to pass up, regardless of the obvious ulterior undertones, was promptly accepted

And that same tune I hear daily began to fill this make-believe worlds atmosphere, nothing happened

At first, outside this child jumping brightly from my left to my right, but then windows began to open,

Heads began to peer, the grassy green was no longer beneath my feet, buildings lined both my sides,

And I played, and I danced for quite some time before I noticed I’d left the village entirely, the little child

Was no longer with me any longer, but instead his companionship was cashed in for that of a million or

So well dressed mice, crawling, standing, dancing all the while