The Champagne Cork Anomaly
I remember the day, marked with
the bland of each grayer junction’s number,
It was the ascendancy of the sunder, befallen my eyes .
A grand exchange, by the mouth of Phantom Deranged,
the sun and the firefly, a grain of fire sand.
The rearranging of tree trunks for the place of eyelashes.
The beginning was the Switzerland of celestial damnation,
but the crumpling brought afterthought, an apogee,
entirely was the bullet riddled diamond insanity.
All of the yellow roses would scream incoherent apologies
as they dripped, petals and leaves coated in wine.
All that can be done is lie. And I will despise.
Whole hearted vanity is at home in the river bank
lined with dismembered limbs.
Each one is the prize of eye closing three hundred sixty-five.
Truly inspired! Stand at attention
for the darkest of dirt-cakes, they deserve your good time.
Forget the atrocity, believe me, so sorry,
tell me of importance, I find no conviction.
Feel the rattlesnake vibrations of the walls
that encase the backwards of my bipolar infidelity,
the june bugs will exhume all that's left,
the grand resuscitation will paint me evangelicals,
crisp in murmur fog of chapped lips, painted dark blue.
Forgetful, I forgive you.
You could never see what the mirrors all mean.
Just remember the afternoons are nothing to you
and the night breathes your applause only for the moon.
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