Bones Of Three Angels © Surazeus 2023 04 13 Strutting in the kitchen with salmon feet, I find bones of three angels on the desk so I construct typewriter from their thoughts which flutters on scarlet butterfly wings till glass horse in tutu dances ballet while trains scream past Heaven of destiny. Laughing with cactus in art galleries, I breathe myself into another state of being beyond ballistic missile bard ready to flash with great Godzilla eye which illuminates the motionless world between soft emptiness of flowing time. Collapsing in the hungry hawthorn bush, the prizeless prince who eats the cookie moon flees with assassin of the lonely heart along the curving street of marching rooks where the red donkey pulls the apple cart past barracks of the weeping radio. Tearing black hole in pocket of my pants, the naive vampire who falls in hot mud steals old castle key with octopus hands to move merry metaphysical door that traps love mute in book with six goat legs when God comes to Earth in the oyster shell. Whistling horror tune about Clementine, the beautiful chimera with nine wings explains secret of maps to the ostrich though umbrella angels would occupy native land where my ancestors fall dead while wearing silk gown to the Christmas prom. Leaning against hearth full of angel bones, Louis Aragon laughs with my distress while handing me silver plate with sheep skull till bullets bleed from kaleidoscope eyes then blossom into haughty cherry trees that close bank teller windows before dawn. Laughing at arrogant angels of faith, the lamp of Diogenes drinks our blood from Holy Grail carved from the cherry tree so daughters of the revolution face hallucinatory mirror through sponge brains stuck full of black pens from feathers of swans. Transforming into black doves at midnight, Clementine opens windows in the castle to better watch ten thousand nuclear missiles waltz to elegant music of Mozart when rain falls upward back to the Blue Sky while I count the angel bones on the desk.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
Thursday, April 13, 2023
Bones Of Three Angels
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment