Thursday, May 4, 2017

Light, Lilting Poem

not a truckload of dead babies...
not a hopeless howl...


a sweet, lyric, lovely air,
(step over that corpse there)
about sunshine and crystalline air,
Xanadu realized! 
(it must be somewhere)
window open, cool night breeze
(my friend turned out to be a sleaze)
Dream of Olwen!
(Night On Bald Mountain)
Monet's water lilies!

Stop, I say! Thou shalt not halt my reverie!

(Def Con Three)


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