Thursday, April 13, 2023

Bones Of Three Angels

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. 

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