hypnogogue tapestry
tempest tempum great
wide yellow journals
yellow but TRUE priests
of the confetti lime
sky shall unleash their
sacral carrier waves
through the Trotskyite
streets (there are six
of us and half dozen of
the Others) mère douce
d'un dieu but lest we
rest while the days of
November trip over them-
selves to run down the
fire escapes with shafts
of peace giving light
on the stucco which keeps
my eye gathered in shock
for hours days cum nights
for the pen has its fever
its sweat on the page
leaving indisible traces
of rhetorical crustacean
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