One is the purest soul drowning in gold.
Two is an empty promise written on kerosene doused looseleaf.
Three beckons like an electrical wire in the sun.
Four is inevitable like rusty knife in both our backs.
Five is drops of amnesia rolling off red paper hat,
I smell infinite gunsmoke; I remember.

Macabre roses fall with black petals at little hands,
Breath of giants pervades life into the mountains
Like the rocks shift in patterns, forever alive.
Cranium alive at dusk, dance in moonlight patterns
Devil singing sweetly into the rocky crags,
Serenade darkness as I loved the filthiest soul.

Upon a hill is the answer, melancholy drip coffee
So cold in the teacup that the grass fades yellow.
Tiny winter sips sends spring faltering, my hand lives on.
Splash the ground, silence follows in tracks of centuries,
Looped on repeat as if God has earbuds in
And is done listening to what we have to say;
Finite packs of cruelty get no word to forever-ears.

Starry eyes live only as long as the supernova breathes,
Only the moments before the universe collapses
In my palm, like a leafy-winged insect
Trapped in a world so familiar, yet like exotic lines
Oozes and shapes slowly, bending like amber.
I’ve been a freelance walker since I could run,
Watch them call behind me with silk scarf waving.
That’s why I drive into sunsets and call dreams riddles.

Touch the sinister alcoves with keys of rich silver,
Fountains run dry in the distance and speak in tongues
My mouth would tie and package for a next life.
Crawl along the highway of life, never fear the cars,
Our minds are harder to break than the most calcified bone.

You can never touch what legs beseech;
The hallways of heaven stretch further than a century.
That distance is bounded by single clash on concrete,
Yet with every step the floor shifts like a playwright ghost’s lipstick.
Run the blurry smudge of sky between fingers, watch the earth.
Old french songs on repeat, spin forever in endless matinee.
This is my first stand, my overture at the close.