A listless wall-clock tocks.
Pedestrians sleep-walk to their garages,
strung out nightwalkers arrive home
to unwind main springs.
Neighborhood cats want in and dogs out.
Pet-free I arise
to pee.
Hung upon marshmallow bones
I roll back onto the perspiring mattress,
Its pillows are still drunk on mind-fog.
The slamming of distant doors
tweaks fine ear hairs.
The clock stops to rethink the notion of time,
hands flop out of its face,
those hands will never reach the floor,
not until bare feet repossess the rug,
nor until my toes can hack their way through
its pile weave jungle,
only then
will the wall commence to tick,
and a thick-tongued world clock in.
Innoculate against the forces
of the dark spectrum and it's Siren tune.
It's sickly pale green and gold hues. Monochromatic scale of hallucinogenic hopelessness.
Uses your Pride's Holden Magnet in it's vacuum.
A fog in the distance closes in,
like a Harpy in Venusian Projection,
streaming obscenity,
zooming in mirror of it's dirty vanity.
Principalities stalk the bog of your ruin.
Embalming your soul into insanity, Heretic Cocoon.
The Dance of Death's pompous Melody.
Dreamweaving sutured organ,
piping your fog into Mummy Womb.
Nightwalkers overlook the ritual.
Demon Satellites orbiting your perdition.
They argue this violation is consensual.
Taking not in_- the adorn of light's prism.
But staunching irreverence, a shadowed-stench where the light bends, grotesquely mishapened.
The Lord of the Flies-traps closes as if nothing happened.
Rainbows end.
Moonlit starry night, visions in shadows,
silver streaked beams slip naked through the night,
capturing dust in thin streaks of moonlight,
bring moon rays to light treeless meadows.
Leaves in iridescent night clothes become
painted luster in an unfocused haze,
dancing, dancing upon the edge of leaves
in quiet stillness of an airless night.
A brilliant luminescent atmosphere,
night primeval in the fullness of light.
Space lightly seasoned with delicate stars.
The moon orbits a panoramic sky,
prowling along it's predetermined flight,
moored, locked in it's traced path, pulling, flowing.
Native earth gave birth to this alien,
this piece of earth, malleable, reflecting.
Owls of the night preying with delight.
Coyote howls, wolves bay and growl.
Rays bend shadows in mid-night moon light maze.
Tides ebb and flow with the moon's changing face;
nightwalkers jog, sprinting from hole to hole.
Kids are swearing
Strangers staring
Mothers are yelling
Nightwalkers selling
In the streets of chaos
Thieves are stealing
Drug dealers, dealing
Bums are pleading
Victims bleeding
In the streets of chaos
Perverts are raping
Convicts escaping
Policemen are beating
Con artist cheating
In the streets of chaos
Butchers are carving
Children starving
Pigs are looting
Gangsters shooting
In the streets of chaos
Players are using
Drunkards abusing
People are killing
Blood spilling
In the streets of chaos
The diseased are infecting
Fathers, neglecting
The city is crying
'Cause people are dying
In the streets of chaos
Damn it’s hot
How does the wind make the sand
Stand up and dance like that
Why is the shade so close to
Those sharp spikes
I’ll have to dig a hole to really
Cool off
Piling the sand on the sun side
At least the cactus tastes good
That’s it
No more day trips
Nightwalkers get to shiver
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