that violet at the end of Roy G's

from highest body point encircled by crowns

wake up Marilyn wake up

reach, no, throw the seals of gone

a beautiful Greek discus flower

behind us like James Dean's wrecked racecar

our feet are always on the line of dawn

says Piers of all angels

beyond our line of sight

spirits make star by harvest of lights

live sparks off metal saws slicing time

into perfect moments where really

there is no permanent madness

beyond fears of it dark enough

even a flash of your own face broken

or much worse, theirs

wounds screaming close range

knows vanish in a clap of vision

just as well

we do have shock, darling

we'll get through it with drinks

and vomit

I have hated the fates

and stalk them still until they die hard

over and over again

there is however a current

vast inability to comprehend

for all of us in between blankets:

the (golden) mean time

makes love to the Green witch

via last unicorns

and so does the vast ability to comprehend

run concurrently

for some of us willingly bleed

with toothsome smiles

the tears of Our Lady

see how the scars all run

from the bottom where the left hand

wishes emptily while not knowing

up to the right crafting jet fuel using skyward

if there was a portrait of that third sight

you'd really know then

the sliced eye socket reality

can slip a neon metallic

pirate smile blade

the sidhe pronounced truly

and sang real

the san grail universal

the burial rights of the Essene

and that skull looked down

when the back bones did cross

we heard them pop song clavicles

hanging nailed dead wingspan windy

with the crown of thorns

feet already flying

stakes already leaning crooked against

torn arches

broken teeth and the mangled lips

on that child's face

the sky of dead thieves sighs

somebody call the calgary of the hill

for the moon rises

and the pikes must be together

or some shit

your horses are all mined

from the same mind's eye

moments on the dawn view

keep forever stepping barefoot

on the sweetgrass dew

birdsong ringing

sweet dulling void of messes

sealing behind us

I walk the plumb line

singing with Mr. Johnny the Black

man of cash

wearing white well these days

Lane cuts in

giving fresh skin from yesterday

scars healing you know.

finally, here it's Spring

he talks in happy bursts

He laughs as Gravity Falls

June sends smiles to warm faces lifting softly

glad of winter's end

I can still hear your voice as I sing

though you've gone ahead 20 years past

the beatles are

eating the dead

they don't mind at all

in the lineage awaiting our return

I'm told Love is worthy

and to pass it on to you

they're proud enough of us

so far