Monday, October 26, 2009

45*21

he points a finger at death and laughs
with fever and dreadful hallucinations
especially when the fair was open
all my time with laughter in a blissful kiss
yet aware of the devastation I would cause
dolls in the attic speaking
earth yearns for rain in summer
I get satisfaction from this grind
dome echoes a pope's hat
sausages and beer puts us out to shame with kindness
I can accept this fiery branch as my leaf hat
the black cloud is my silver lining
color dripped out of my corpse with happiness
I was ecstatic and drunk with evil
surprised to find my jaw come off in my hand
longing for the gentle touch of a woman's eyes
partying in the church of my beliefs
screaming outside to the dogs
walking around in a dream. Today!!!
the weather is just beautiful and
a giggling woman's hand scratches my shepherd scruff

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