Word Play (3)

Sensation

That choking sensation, distilled from all others,

leaves the others to fade, while anxiety swells

Each moment fossilizes the fear,

trapping words in the lyrnx like a metal coffin.

Each word eroding me closer to martyrdom,

as if each word were a coursing river torrent.

My elegy, the clusters of imminent precipitation on my forehead.

As my powdered confidence flows away.

As my corpse intersticely flows away.

Through the murk, on to Saint Lazare.

Martydom

Martyrdom,
powdered, distilled, faded,

in the bright sun of St. Lazare,

where imminent murk fossilizes

on the bank of where the river courses.

Soaked, sedimented, swollen

like waterlogged, wet corpses.

As erosion batters the metal coffins,

clustered like bacteria,

elegy still unwritten,

Interstice precipitation.

Soaked

St. Lazare is a metal coffin,

the precipitation is imminent, often.

Interstice sediments leave you coughing,

distilled from fossils of powdered martyrdom

murk eroded from clustered corpses

elegies caught in swollen lyrnxes

faded, murky, coursing, corpses.

Soaked

Sonnets (2-3)

Grand Theft Auto
Some meth-heads go to fairs
some business men go skydiving.
But if a cop really cares,
He'll stop you while you're driving.
Customizing cars,

with pot-smokin' gangtas,
Drinking at strip Bars,

And beating senoritas.

Cue

When everything else fails

there's but one thing to do,

tip the weights and scales

so that they might favor you!

Just keep on going,

and do what you do,

just keep it all flowing...

Just keep waiting for your cue.

When you hear the call,

keep your mind focused

and don't drop the ball,

your mind is not a swarm of locust.
Really though just keep your cool,

THAT is the undeniable rule.

20 Instructions

20 Instructions for the Crazies

Silently spinning buzzing saws tell me what to do,

the Apple Jacks are screaming to me, how about you?

Can you hear the vibrancy?
Can you see the sour?
Can you taste the grit?

Can you feel the fragrance?
Can you smell the screams?

John Adams knows about carpentry,
John Adams knows the White House,

and that Apple Jacks are quiet,

yea.................they're quiet.

But the prisoners oh the prisoners!
Caught like water in a bong,

frequencies in a song,

held, for far too long.

Hey “dawg” the good queen of law,

your face is young and weary,

And I really must be crazy, Really.

Thats what they want me to think,

I just want to be free.

But the sluggish years won't change a thing,

Wait, seriously, am I sane?

Can't you gather from my mouth words?

Till I get an answer,

I bid you Aufeidersehn,

as does the Apple Jacks,

And so does Mr. Adams,

from his seat on the White House throne.