Thursday, March 01, 2007

Jones 3

Daddy money went walking,
Still of the night:
Triple-dreamed cherry cola,
Astral stream neuropathy,
Dr Purejoy’s little house of pain.

After the digital analysis,
After the quick fade away till three,
Jones will be a-reckoning—
Down the hall of mirrors
Twixt the orange stream.

Bandy-legged insect,
Inter-tribal fiend,
The now of then
Is squandered, through
The caffeinated mean.

Fissure rapt,
Adenoidal spawnquake.
Travis in the ace of nines,
The lady-ness of thou and thee.

It will become
Casual. It will become
Quaint. It will become
Insular, avid, fever-driven—
It will become the antiquity of spleen.

Hie there, milady,
Seed and coronation.
Be there:
Leaven for the need.

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