untitled demi-epic: december '97

I clung in a desultory
manner to a certain
piece of remembrance
a sea of wine
red as the host denied
remembrance of times
people tell are in front
in sight.
do I taste as a Farouk
beheading the tea-peddler
for a stink too bitter?
or are we meant to serve
ourselves to the unseen currents
payment for our empty luck
I loll, roll
the tongue of a misty sweat spitting
toothy hand delivers me to the
first oasis.

You are faceless but for the
sound of your nose
You smell of tang
coconuts plunging willfully
onto my chest, knowing they're
already dead.
I was taught to hold a taste,
but fingers can only float
on flesh
Many times did I long for
some strange antenna to
whirl an obvious deception
long did I bake
until the card flipped
surprising the normally cautious
water bearers
Did I hallucinate your twist
as another archon
poured a distant fire
like a beaten throat?
Did I bore?
Will I saunter over to the
flower maker to rhyme
and (hopefully) snore?
nor shall you.
A thousand feet twisted
right and parallel
keep me watching
I carry my fourth eye
in my song, hoping to
convey a spy into the
nonexistent territory
we prepare for.
We dine
I sniff at the prepoderance
of deliberately found emotes
gloating in the red.

This stop is meant
to straighten those unruly
slow dances across my lips.
Lakes of human ichor
puddle up in testament
to thrusts of uncertainty
I recall many hidden rocks
shining in a forgotten present.
How many do you jangle?
If we could but exchange
a tooth with an emerald
for each reluctant conquest,
I'd know the score with a tickle
So we wave and run backward
A trick of time
Since brevity is the soul
of the bed shackles
I'll pause and cast my third
eye into the sea.