Bantering with Octagons

Daybreak has washed away the rabbit triails in its evapourating dew. They have left their holes, though.
I have drunk dry the words in the well
Blue sorrow lightens in the honeysuckle morn.
Each day's possibilities keep alive my voice.
If I listened to myself, I might hear my rabbits mating.
 
The rabbits inside my soul
They are burrowing
Burrowing on the way
Driving me crazy
Making me say...
 
say what, brother?
tell us what's on your soul
let it bleed into the open air
so we can sift though it with our fingers
like sand on the beach
or flour readied for dough

there are stains upon my soul
i'll tell you that
stains of remorse
and shame

stains of my imperfection


but you know what?
i love being imperfect
it makes life so interesting
 
Immaculate flour: who needs it?
Whole grained to imperfection
Whenever I return her words flow,
like a purring current of a cooling brook,
through a hot, tormented core:
They are a shot of joy
Injected directly to my heart
Which is not the centre of my being
But just to the left.
 
Floating imperfection reason dubiously as they fly circles through the squares of the canyon that is known only as mind.
 
Earth bound emotions look up at the clouds of doubt floating overhead, over the canyon through which the rivers of senses and feelings flows like a curving number 8.
 
Number 6
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http://www.cultv.co.uk/prisbar2.gif
 
66 cents seems a fair price for hothouse tomatoes when they've had to come all the way from fucking Bolivia just to find a home in my salad. Salad is a cool thing to have on hot summer evenings when the sunshine still beats against the glass like it's the Gran Chaco down there in Argentina. Geography. Geology. Geophagy. Eat dirt and die, little glow worm, glimmer, glimmer.
 
glow worm glimmers as evening's dusk deepens
fireflies flit across the yard
breezes die
balloons rise
as windows open to the cool night air

bats and rats and bubble gum
buns and winks and
know-it-all grins

white teeth flash as a
bird calls into the heart of a gale
see the glow of cat's eyes
golden
and green
here
then suddenly gone
 
Number 9
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RI-I-I-I-IDE! RI-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-IDE!

THEN THERE'S THIS WELSH RAREBIT WEARING SOME BROWN
UNDERPANTS CARRYING GREEN 66 CENT BALLOONS


Yes darling?
 
Number me with licks of love, laughing while we lavish ladles of lasagna longingly over nubby knees.
 
Number of the
Yeast, I mean yeast.
I love how it rises.
And rises.
Mr. Mojo rising.
A random octagon by any other name
Still smells the same.
 
Alone on a dark hill
i watch the crescent moon rise
throught the pines
the air is spicy and still

glow worms
light
the
path
to
nowhere
 
Nowhere.
No how.
Ride, baby, ride.
Feel the smooth sullen gait of the miles under your feet, under your thoughts, under the damn distracting hum of the fan as it cools the sweat from your noble forehead.
 
Eerie terror and
the miracle in Purgatory
Blind the one-eyed cockerel to the noble duty
To take the punches and roll over.

Academic freedom so decrees:
Non-violence is a more effective response
Delivered with decorum
In Man's only non-extinct living language,
Erotarian.
 
Ero
Eros
Esoterica
Discordia
Kallisti
Goddess is one and multiform.
But comes in a thousands names
Eris
Gaia
Luna
Kali
Nuit
Laurel
Hardy
A thousand and one
Erotic nights
With the goddess of lights
 
step right up folks
step right up

it's god of the month club

get your subscription now
and we'll throw in a minion
free!

but that's not all

commandments, sin, salvation
all can be yours

nirvana, samsara
every other fortnight
another rung up
on Fionn's ladder

Never worry about losing your religion again

because if you join now,
we'll throw in this
"Whistle-and-it'll-beep" tag
that you can use for
any
religion
you
want!

Yes you heard right.

Any religion you want [conditions apply] can be tagged with your free [if you join now] "Whistle-and-it'll-beep" stop losing your religion handy dandy funky gadget.

Step right up folks.
Step right up.

(All major and minor library cards accepted.)
 
Come inside, come inside
to the show that never ends
We've got banter, we've got octagons
We've even got split ends
 
Stars shinning in the day
Sun bright in the night sky
Mountain roads
Full of leaping toads
Babbling brook
Won’t shut up
Water running in my head
Good mood
Bad mood
Somewhere in between
Stars shinning
Not at night
 
Split ends banter with shapes unknown, attempting to buy redemption in the form of a bargain value.
We're all cracked one way or another.
It just depends on how much you show
How much you hide
How much you attempt to redeem.
 
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