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wearing at once a mask of yellow and amber flame,

and too a mask of smoke, interweaving with the flames

the dared dared

Oh holy one, did you
taste me today yes,
it was bitter im sure

That car almost smooshed me
into the pile of shit i have become

Lords of Shit,
i will fucking fight you

This is the doom of twinkly
         sprinkled
         sparkling
         quaffing
         vomitings,
     iam
     seething on the shit-shore

     My screams are well greased

I aimed to please,

now yearn for release

atomic dead ends

I wear these bands about these hands
They keep my I in place

about the land that there within
resides one running face

A stew expelled from towers,
ornate and symbolized,
dares denizens to crane and come
to sweep their finite shames aside

~ ~ ~

Man hobbles alongside little girl and wife.
They meander past the towers,
live in love’s powers,
& do not discuss
what is above or not

Your pen, Lucien, cuts a gaze
through mysty slanted window panes,
poised to recoil in some tired tune’s hook –
the one that amps up the whos who DONT LOOK

Angel danger is measured by
vibrating rails already laid,
made of the material of forgotten days

The weakened lover’s limp mandibles
still incite the carp-like cock,
swelling in secret,
secluded in the callouseeum,
sedate in sooth
as that energy moves
through atomic dead ends