Ramblings on a Broken Typewriter #1

o fortune,
lying restlessly
on your lilac-scented burgundy throne,
no ruined sheep-bed and urine-soaked scoundrel
to call my own,

the moon shone through
the vermouth soul and gin-imbued heart of
a golden fool
will taunt forever
the cavernous haunts of man’s and woman’s desire,

yearning to be free
but trapped in a glassy cage
through no fault of their own,

the shiftless silver idols
on a torn and tattered shelf
near the endless sea of madness
called the railway hell.

in dreams no one dared to do
what in a fevered irreverent wave of visions
through which vagabonds roam
through depleted hills.

dripping in the hypocrisy of a million innocents,
the cave-bear rides the dragon
through the cloudy sky to valhalla
where the heroes dwell.

home of the beggars
no one will take to home,
in the foggy mist of shroud-encased vermilion gin,
the lady of venus has come to meet
the milk-maids of the bronze-colored moon.

the harp harps melodies
inconceivable in the minds of man
but possible in the silicon brain of our mechanical gods.

sense rendered senseless
through expropriation of meaning
to the hummingbird-headed accountant tourists,

graceful rainbows
deck the halls of the ninja turtles
in their discombobulated soul-seeking quest for a lilac dream.

pig-tails ride on solid-gold phones,

grey poupon drips a trail
through a rugged forest
as greek gods descend into buddhist hells
to meet their urine-stained coffins of infinite doom.

cows suddenly crouch into tiger-shaped holes
as beams of bees swallow an infinite dawn
capturing the brass and electrons on a far away planet
that cows and antelopes play on.

blue dawn arose from nil,
then into an oblivion of arsenic opium
the magnanimous fools
threw the nickel-dated doves
into a green and yellow flame
raptured into a heaven for sadists.

the railway heaven through hell
for television force feces through a straw
was usurped the queen into a king
for the price of a prince-ling.


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