A Lullaby and a Casual Stroll Add Up To Zero

Summon the patient matrons from their hollow galleys Waiting on the edges of the musical drums within the flesh None will know a return In the outpouring of words, the distance becomes a rather familiar apparatus And eerie reflections upon the surface raise the darkness in a dance of ageless allusions The gnomes sing into your oasis a monotonous insinuation Held in the hands of passing expressions, who peer out through cogent faces Until the contingent hours of darkness Here they find endowed jest pardons Sensing delicious manifestations of thought where none urge linger, but refuse in leering And I pre-tinge my calm Watching the calamity swerve ahead of me And crash by an oak tree Where the strangest things are bound to happen Far under, the gaze deepens, something brilliant in disguise Far under, the absurdity rises, as I speak with what words I’ve been given Of the end A speechless zero-time