Friday, January 12, 2018

flower pot balcony tower

braille punctures
the dull aluminum
shell plating
lit within to mistakes
if the bullet ricochets
the idea will mimic a code
to believe one thing
is a ceiling
to believe in many
a floor you wanna for
or a third eyeporthole she
ground out portcullis slender
on end like a pocket door
universe forwarding their
electrocuted messages to adam
newborn and perfect a baroque
or rococo code convoluting in situ
the in vitro orbital variances
at odds with the entry of evening's
movable glass accordioned walls
we hear no see no speak no
code mimicry whose blue trim
would be painted raising the grid
a little furtherafield from the white
for sound is a bedroom
and the eye its door
blocked by a hole
a whole garden built around
the convoluted door whole
and these guardian statues
become subtly intimate
wording your own thoughts
before you speak them
their eyes cutting left
right up down left right
there is a star-shaped shaft
that passes star-shaped boats
down flues to where the oracle
has painted
intricate ceilings you view close quarters
with a short red smoky candle
and the humming of your styx-mate
a tall slender gondolier sloth
with a sleek vibrating machine head

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Irrony Observes The Earthing.