behind the wall:
the sunny wisdom
that stone house
of avatars
and the spirit in the fields
under the wonder dust
with the dark red sleep escape
where the ugly untitled carcass
blushes green…
admiring insomniac…
someone the object
of industrial nectar
rotted under the texture
of weather…
the Absolute playing
solitaire
washes eyes and ears
in a sea foam castle
of the coming rain
running on peacock feet…
stars snow…
charcoal masquerades
as a shortcut…
the blown jazz
from far away
bounces off his shoulders
(those unwelcome mats
before the door of
night)
that sleep all day…
*
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