Dream turns into possibility, halos over jest of love and death, a miracle running straight into life.

Trying like devil may care, to swallow threats of banality, whose simple wonders thrill and heave.

Its miracle stunned with crazy intent, resentment, and silence.

Pimona’s lip, from the hip, becomes breathless and dreamy. There are no edges, slips into pandemonium, everything is graded against madness and the humilities of death.

Everything stops

And wonders. And prays. Not to milk tragedy? for thunder and drink, the beauty of noise.

And contempt bristles like the mother of love. Every grift daft wild riff, a hungry distance that turns liability into a fist.

Crafty, meticulous, defiant.

Oh meticulous stolen blue river, break the glass! Fumes a-lumen. Danger? Destiny is haughty, belligerent, sweet, estranged, outreach awkward, repulsed as horror is at times of desire, and its tension a mockery of the flesh.

Becomes packed into a box of liturgical death.

Hopeless inflections whose punts never cease being a wild jealousy fangled with everything fucking under the sun.

All & nothing

Holy death swarms with fetid vapors, lofty and diligent. A lamplighter’s prism of twilight, duty, beauty, contempt.

Dreams’ dramas team with brutal want & savior, reap and buoyant with deep-laid involutions –

What is life beyond life, the religious knife, the wily sog of song and suggestion. Sorrows’ body of hate, sweet surfaces of love, battling to the bone and above.