Rage is an underground pattern
souls which billow in the breeze
sweet soft audacious people
careful maidens in the town of Sacremento
chaos in the streets, unheeded
shocking tastes in the bowels of hell
a vigil for an all-night protest
up above, where they are high
tamed lions caged in queer castles
you know the ones

England and Europe in the summertime
trees that look dead and are pleasured to wane
immature babies, constant death
surely the second step onto reality
beasts and beauties for the unknown
a sly awakening for the immortal
a scolded child in a supermarket

Two days the world is indolent
shutting windows
just like starting over is what they think
thinking over what might happen
and going in for the fun
a fit of hysterics come across you
impalable thoughts
external from internal
your body comes to a demise

A box full of pictures
her blank mind
pictures of babies with blank faces
a celebration of words come over me
a storm of the truth, what I should be
pornography for the mind as it blooms onto the edge
just like a snap perfecting it's sound

How can you wait for me
to dwell with me
and to see with me
mysterious oasis
calling for our beliefs
just to see if we're still breathing
to beyond the open leak
troubled to seek attention
and a secret for the untold people
 
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