Many a feast done in dim time, exchange done in daylight, dragonrock hatch third eye - cement grime in the hair of the white mare - a Queen - in immortal dreams, feed the fiends full black clad Kings follow seagull squawk, self-strip the skin from the seed, dragon chase mid flay a strip tease straws seek heat, embrace raw cuts of meat paper white glistening with strips of red kiss pass through ivory smoke. The Pusherman's pockets full of posies eight ball'd eyes through the fade met God in a haze a shadow passed by locked doors of jaws - painted red - passover - cold gaze over the gangreened fix - this is not for dying. Many bleat witch hazel tears pass over with necks uncorked gushing mead visit from the errand boy stashing scores for clerks only moons speak tonight cement shoemakers and the works for the many stars who have seen it all like the eyes of a nation hooked and quartered on trees of steel sun branch through the reek and through the black curtains at dawn: HEADLIGHTS low riding one hand on rota fortunae 10 and 2 o'clock in the other hand a scale from the driver's window: gleek in the ocean (deal me four, face down) still more weighty than mere gamey breaths felines must make way by craft or silk trails but most often it is a hand squeeze pulse clean flatline eye cool breeze I watched her head bob in her sea - Atishoo, atishoo, she said, winding down in a locked room - her head welled with eyes in Neverland. The mules walk on water foam chalk on cargo ~ white clouds around the mouth light through the bullet thwacked torso HEADLIGHTS beam through the gunroasted holes and they didn't run fast enough but some ride the unicorn over a black rainbow at the end a pot of blow Ring-a-ring o’roses A pocketful of posies Atishoo, atishoo We all fall down. The crisp swap and dab of pack, jungle's concrete beneath needle crack, dawn over the stiff in chalk tuxedos red lanterns on East Indian ships, draw out the black curtain again. They all fell down. The hand that deals for one deals for all weed through the stone cracks the foundation, turns the mind away from God.
Superb lyrical display in this one Bence, I feel an Eliot influence in this one that promises great growth
Gully!