From your parapet of pity you prophesize and proclaim,
That the widows of the tailors dug two shallow graves.
To mould the unmoulded into suits a crane,
who makes such dreams built of rain, served on a the back of your undiscovered pain?
A topographic phrenology that undulates the benign.. a course of repression not duly prescribe. While consciousness draws closer ticking over time,
we hear of other mumblers, shuffling for their dime.
Their mumbling over and over what's your sure once was mine.
Their mumbling over and over what's yours now must be mine.
So once again willing to put in the time.
Castaway your wings sink to the sublime.
Indulge in divulgence, balance the the unclean, tightropes are not mere nooses for a canvass set unseen.
what kind of a fool
do you think i am
even though even
i am at court and
court my queen
phrenology by gosh
by golly since when
hitting my head at
age ten on a log
would logically
assume my future
through a feature
placed on my body
after birth so what
of my hand
i would gladly take
yours if you're giving
but these lines liken
towards words that
say and speak
of marks made before
you were born so they
must be some sort
of map but not
exactly and
hard to read signs
pointing to turn
left or turn right
making no
decisions
so i prefer
the toes to
tell what's
told and i
also
love
to suck
and lick
them as un
meltable fine
desserts
Phrenology and phenology fascinate me
Not sure why
But they both intrigue me
Helping my imagination
Conjure new possibilities
Delighting me and reminding me
of other “ologies”.
Geology, biology, zoology, psychology.
These “ologies” parade into my dendrite
field, introducing my brain
to active new possible ideas and we dance.
The “ologies” and I are using each other
and amusing each other.
Being a life-long learner is the only way
to stay alive on this plane if you ask me.
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