pleats

what green we saw that night. crackling flesh. and red sparkles. exploding in the night sky. spouting lava. of yesterday's freedom. and the trade of the unions. centuries in a shoebox. or a bell jar full of sand. the lights on the scraper are shimmering tonight. blood. dove. sapphire.

and there is a shuffle by the riverside. a merriment of sorts. and a cluster of eyeballs from the sahara. or the valley of orchids. through your merry kaleidoscope, look at the water. pantaloon of the tribes. and naked communism. a botch of justice. you call it order. you deluded idiot. if moralism is the norm, i will be a nomad. and scamper. and slide. and kill your authority. stab your tongue so you speak no more. the castles of tomorrow, in your city of dreams, will crumble in the quake. and take with it a million arms. those arms that gave you shape. in the nature of your holiness. in the god you believe. in the rhyme of rhymes and the lace of lace. and twirling jaws of seamless galaxies. what imagination shall swell. through man and womb. and your jittery lips. cold vagina. selfish sexualia. the mother of smoke. like ointments. the filthy grease. you call it balm. to calm the calm. and selfish self. twilight of lights. stitch. and sew. and hem. this nonsensical rhyme. the lyrics of rhyme. as they did by the shelves. in charcoal and oil. smooth as jazz. so raspy. so coarse. like saws and blades on leaden leaves. oh the rhyme!

this is your world. of yellow ponds. why yellow you ask? jaundice. they have lost their minds. they have no self. useless bodies that walk around. like empty bowls from the land walls. they cheer the mob. they want to be a hundred souls. compressed in shreds. they are the leaders today. what a spectacle of mockery. go, you say. go. go. impress your lord. oil his loins. impress. your tresses and locks. remember your pleats. and the beautiful smile. you cosmetic doll. of golden degrees. service they call it. oh you helped the roads? the communion of age, which exists by the doll shop? like bangle sellers. how shiny they look. dazzle your eyes. you value at least a hundred. its real worth of one. lovely. it's this world, little pebbles. show your show. even if you are a pauper dying of loss. for in this canvas of breaths, all you need to do. is cast a web of beauty. to knit a spectacle of gold. for if you fail, you will lose. the war will end. no one cares, little pebbles. you have to win.