Death Of The Garbage Man © Surazeus 2023 10 22 Though rain still falls on hills of Zathamar with haughty unconcern for blooming signs, night clear as owl eyes ever watching moons, contemptuous of our pride for who we are, we must refuse to pay our traffic fines, indignant for how violins warp tunes. Still waters that run deep conceal false dreams dead angels sell to tourists on the beach at sunset screaming silently for faith, yet horses grazing by forgotten streams refuse to accept lessons devils teach for how to contact brain of the star wraith. Forth unto misty woods of Avalon no wingless angel, stuck on twisted tracks, remembers how to pay the piper gold forged from stolen Byzantine coins at dawn to cover evidence of moral cracks that disassemble mirrors never sold. For every journalist murdered in war another child is born in Bethlehem to carry on tradition of their tribe though Jesus wants to run the grocery store instead of wearing divine diadem, yet falls in love with daughter of the scribe. Reluctant to play chess with Death in Hell, awake in darkness visible through words invented by the faceless ghost we fear, I search for Melusine by drought-dried well for help to translate poetry of birds in songs now mimicked by conceptual gears. While bombs destroy Museum of Weird Art young children play war in the city park in games they convert into government through which they control fate with a star chart which beams psychotic pulse from divine quark to honor the dead with new monument. Through marriage of like minds we rule the Earth by sitting quietly on judgment throne to guide humanity in building peace based on standard value each soul is worth as sales recorded on dinosaur bone in scenes displayed on the lost altarpiece. With books of epic poems stuffed in my bag I walk confusing maze of Athens town in search for tomb of the last vampire clan, then enter Jerusalem on white stag at crowning of reluctant emperor clown who covers up death of the garbage man.
Surazeus Astarius Συράζευς Αστάριος. Cartographer. Epic Poet. Hermead epic poem about Philosophers 126,680 lines of blank verse. http://tinyurl.com/AstarianScriptures
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