Untitled #58

Of destruction
I heard the last night fall and tremble
tremulously and-hark, but I'll be damned if I
didnt hear those herald angels singin.

Perfumed ups and downs like sweet briny
offerings of just laws.

Detoured, I began to pray for
One better day
Where music floated down
Under blue nights
And angel notes,
Hymn-like mentality seeps
Upwards downwards
all around me
I had to catch my breath
I used to walk there
I used to walk there
And it was alarming to see
The new faces gathered
and huddled together
Like tepid ghosts
on oatmeal fumes.

The skullish thing in the green of the sun watches me closely as I wait a minute and decide to add:

I used to crawl there
I used to crawl there


I just wanted to sing.
I just wanted to bring the spirit
High in to the atmosphere-
anti-gravity verse strikes again.

There were lots of people,
Girls and boys.
Songbirds and warriors
whose blood dripped like a cliche
Whilst we all wonnnnderrrrred
"what's for dinner"
"whats on at 8".

(To me, it became unspeakable
this ignorant acceptance, this doped & gluttoned society,

Sheep to the slaughter, wtf?)
Soon a hallowed wish invaded to
just make it
go away.

Under blue moon songs calling
A revelrie of song-wish falling
Deep in part
on some dismal island of me
Let me sing you now
The night's majestic tis of thee.


Sweet disaster and slurping signs
Abrupt ancient chatter
and
archaic lang synes.

Sleep well, mal-adjusted soul.
Patter lightly, raindrops of Spring.
I will never die.
I will always sing.

Hit me one more:

I will never die.
I will always sing.