45*21

sleeping out into the darkness without a thought
for where it lead, the eyes pale
and growing lighter in the stream along the wall
he could see his life in the white light
that grew in size along the wall of the cell
dying the triangle from red to black
there possibly being no evil in this world
how the diamonds hang upon the leaves
it makes us weep and not with joy
she was the sweetest mother in the world
who loved her dark son and had no control
he sits among his books and cassettes
the old sage but where his bride
a deep dark Texas town swallowed them
it was only the leviathan that made a loop
in this watery consciousness until there was rhythm
a pattern to mitigate all the phoniness
it slept on dime store counters
we enjoyed the chocolate covered bananas
having no idea what came out of the south
and would permeate our future day time dreams