Thursday, January 21, 2010

Space is slowly to a Halt. I am Turing the Secrets of O.

Arise O Ezra, as Re in the East
once stayed to stoa, sew you too
must upon the oats in tow,
water in a ring which flows,
swollen with hands, the dna
of snakes in a fire pit, her pets
who are seerish, cheered by
dearly deer with red door-like
ears hanging tenderly like eels
in a garland of rags which see.

Arise O Ezra, as rows of roses
live boustrephedontic periods
of death at her door, rood orders
of red roads, sentences planted
in the land of your pneuma.

Rose panther, you arise
in Ezra's easy rays, pitch
and yaw codified and set
up straight with stays, there
is say to say and yes like light
a blight, thing lights pulse
from her stomach's purse,
Ezra wants cut loose to play!

Come out Ezra!
Again! O Arise wind rose
whose speach like the cheap
snake scent the snuff of stuff
did sent, galls of bent wicks
lay stunned in the din
of nuts under tons of notes
now stiff with fits of trifling
boats, all estimates are off
for whatever foe is lurking
the rroott foot is still forking
a simian flower crown nows
shows its library of machine
swarm halos, gas is like a city
of d's.

Ezra make haste!
Mix it in your navel!
Leaven it!
Bead it on a string of pained
virtue, as if your tongue
might assume any form,

And be born!
King of the Shape-Shifter Shamans!

It's not a mash, nor a sham,
but a mouth full of tiny snakes..

O gad, this father of old tidings
turned to Ezra and said
like a Mathematician's hat, yes,

Are you Z?

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.