THE GREAT EYE

(volcano glass ribcage dolmen)

teeming with stoners
the deep edges of their language
tongue a marvel upon
the paper-weight shores
to wit

i see the moonlight
through their eloping
glass abdomens

in the wary firelight
that wangles its sway
among the nictitating ruins
these metal people analogs
are holding a ritual dance
against the paper
arisen before time

mind your stoner halo purses
keep frisbee latent information
licorice to the farming of flesh
before the failure of reason
spray-painting fresh copies
of nashville parthenons

marching to the tortured screechers
their minds are products
of scratching an empty jug
with a torreador of random switches

the trap door gives way onto
a barricade
where the professors and the inbred rich
are both courting a romantic
hunchback

hermes then fits 3 stoner babies
round my crania
as a magic helmet
and i see the volcano
of the hunch in its back
our nose

i see the terrible giftings
before the shrine
of the awesome suck

10 stoners are dancing around me
holding hands in a magic spring
and i am ascending

into the gorgeous oval
and flower rimed
vacuum portal of music

i'm gone
in a curtsying flip
of thrips and purple
dachsunds

there's nothing but
a weird sparkle left
of the wholesome
and cosmic
and titanic

eye


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