Blackened; food or rock. Roll in. Waves across the scared. Beach. Designs in the light play games. Minds eye, third eye sees the reflected illusions dance off of the high-rise glass… low esteem.
For over two weeks; smoke rising always one step forward two step back. One two right the left right of way back too see the signs. Inter-coastal waterways warnings. Overturned boxes of repackaged disasters.
Sacred snow and hats bring. Disgust – Disgusted by the vulgarities of Simple for simpletons, lost in the glamour clamour lost in the rush of the season. Excuse the excuses.
Read and re-read the histories, look for clues overlooked, ignored or unknown. Looking glass flashback scenes illuminated; black-light. Bull horned by the tail dancing the jig…pentagram onyx and white marble floor trails of fire flare up to scar the skies reflection on minds third eye blind to the obsessions of the dark and dangerous games played out on the full moon light nights.
Weeping reaping without tears blind eye sorrow for the sodden hallowed ground. Tail turned earth heathen earth.
Sartorial. Left for discovery of old Camel crumpled by design.
Politics of disease or the disease of politics. The disease of politics, politics politics politics. Wrong, thinking not thinking into that red night fortnight. A nausea overwhelms and overcomes. Puking crystals. A Hudson’s strait of vomit covers the street in mind slime. Blinding red light, night. Jazz, jazz this and all your thoughts belong to us. No room, to let, for error.
Sunshine no longer comforts. Reflected snow and ice on high rise complex of simply not simple enough to reflect the horned image of their new serenity. Comfortably wrapped in woollen ideology. All warm and fuzzy logic or chaos theory.
I have here. Where is hear/here to go east or west to the western lands or Sahara sands. Sands of time. Time to go left or right night flight of glowing neon skies of illuminated distress on panicked streets. For there is no reason…tis the season.