Hell is inescapable bliss today: I watered the ox, I fell around, clutching three instants of grappa. Oh what will it do, I’d spill the wine over the flesh of a white goat for you.
Sometimes I think I am gay when I see rainbows, burls, or the Maker piling hay. Each sharp grain pushes through the world a thousand times.
The vandals are coming with their axe, to flay me at the corner of Larkspur and Mark. To drag me through the streets, to the park, where they’ve stretched out their big rollers.
Purgatory, heaven-redeeming bliss. I will walk on hot coals through the mist. The bees and brambles sting the earth is freezing cold. I’ll walk through the ocean, though it stings my soul.
Upon the way is a Pool of Time. In it I see my name, floating on a lily pad. Open the hours, open your heart, I fell into the water with a start.
To the gates, all inset with rubies. Emeralds and lovelocks. Plus mirrors that refract you from every angle, style, and phase. I am with a hundred arms in an ormolu haze.
The ox leads the way through the cloudbanks to the God of All. Lounging on a couch made out of curious metal. Picking his fingers with a harp, stroking the calico cat with the warp. On the ropes of time an ocean lays, plucking
That sparkles all different waters.
I live in a haunted house, it is 4 am
My limbs are freezing, once again
The witches and goblins here will kill me
And that will be the end of me.
I feel cold scared and numb
No words, or way out, I feel quite dumb
I feel like I’m being watched day and night
Sudden terrifying images give me fright.
Bad things lurk in the dark
Life used to be a lark
Something funny is coming my way
It wants to hurt me and say:
I stabbed your eyes
I stabbed your tongue
I cut your toes
I sliced you up.
The darkness inside of this house coils
Where I go my blood boils;
If I die the demon will smile
If I die the demon will revile
The life I lived
The girl I was
* i te teror 2
No way out nowhere to go
Where I go I do not know
Flighty caged and weak
I hear the voices when I speak.
Quaking aside dark dreams
Of bombs and ghosts and murders
Where do I go? What do I do?
I am scared for my life.
I feel like someone will open up the door
Open it up and peel me out
Eat me and spit out my bones
I’ll die with no tombstone.
Where do I go I don’t know
To an early grave I’ll go
Once more you I salute
I’ll play my magic flute.
Found: December 27, 2018, growing in shelves out of a living White Oak tree
Pileus: 8-9 cm, convex, lined at the margin, color vivid teal, glabrous, white ridges appressed to the surface
Stipe: 6cm x 4cm, white, dense, curved, equal, no ringzone, hirsute
-younger specimens transparent, with mushier flesh
My oldest friend, how fare thee now?
Though a block in the night separates us—
Your window’s glow practically lights my own—
Yet in my heart you feel more distant still.
Where have the tides of life brought you, these years?
How comes it that you return to this Wood?
My heart leaps for a thousand trite questions;
It returns to the moment you kissed me.
When we were children and all the world fair
Nature had circumscribed blocks for our love
And put up houses without beginning
Or the end which gradually we brought up.
All of that time surrounds me now, and
The fabric between us
That no matter we grow apart
Tethers all is, will be.