November 6, 2014

Carnaval et de Carême...

Illustration by Aubrey Beardsley from Short stories by Edgar Allan Poe

être celui qui, Carnaval et de Carême , éveille , en vous

womb facing strangers
we had become
our memories
sickly decadent
with nostalgia
barnacle encrusted
embedded veins
what once was
had the reins

right now 
was maple leaves
a capitulate empty thirst
in last drop regards
bled fire novae they
all fall pouring
spider web silk
into why arms
were once fins

when it rains in November / entry level visas become bone theories and lottery skin/ what cold souls want to win most, is their desire to be

at first it eats them
creates more them
sleeps with them

conscious state repeat ritual language
adherence level is a variable part of self-awareness
I too am wary wearing too much shine
literal translators lock the gates
from other divine participants
us lesser paid extras
and those found
to have good voices
are still sometimes
caught and sold
on subscription schemes

we’re all bought time eventually
circuitous slow orbital knees
belly swell straight shot
atmospheric refraction
travelling remember when(s)
endlessly named archetypal
spiritual marionette tent revival
ten penny shows/found
along old roads that wanted to be
back alleys, strung with lights

punch and judy, camp downwind
just outside of any town/
prepping salacious acts
waiting saints fill coffers
coffins and thin glass
calamity insurance fortunes
told per coin per chance taken
casket basket barker lark near
hearkened hearing ye
and me and why we
un-pocket salvation
trading labors of life
for favor and vice

strolls down a street's lost innocence
you care to pay attention
you engage in outside of light tricks
you play the shadow masquerade
you wick, wax and haze
you rust and dust 
engage in gold come-ons
lanterns a-gloaming 

when we close shows
the audience is captured
in close-by(s) and proximities

we surprise many with variations
so as to increase potency
this is how maybe
is always the paint-fuck
of hope and allure

an “I want to feel this”
resonates within the din
chamber exclusive thinking
how is everyone doing
milling the exits
if you are clamoring for more
we do have some to buy into
drinking wine and recollections

the labels saw
pour wings and claws
four heads and paws
footprints you knew
the tides would take…