Great Depression

When all else fails... seeith the rise and fall of beautiful eyes, and a tongue-less mountain...

See'ith the eye which is color-blind
of beauty, Russian cactus and thimbleful
declare a superb theme...

Alas' the day ends; of tomorrow- for desperado
spare'th the flesh of ancient ancestor, times pleasing
abroad the botany, robust mountains, slanting valley
He who stands solitary, tense in a dim solemn
has no driblet, nor wiping hand... his pain is a hunger
steering his soul, through mazes of the universe...

His emotion draining of smoky ink, contemptuous is the
bearer, the nation distorted within its own ageless empathy
Broadened by baroque talk, and double-standard slang
following the Great Depression, and sovereignty of sorrow...
Chariots racing over airless horizontal trains, obstructing a
glorious view, a witness to evaporated fences, hardened heart...

The land which see'ith the celestial body, the fields foibles
provides its banqueting organ- on the people, the world over
by hungriness, by an alluring twist- presenting verbalization of
arctic, frosty feet- dense the soul, he who cannot set himself within
 the portrayal of infinity... his ardent candelabras, lights the burrow
of starvation, and a cordial warmth for continuance...

Troubled sunsets, and mournful dawns break open with not so much
as a warning; circulating through arid-less waters, and arresting aspects
now devastating, dicing all around is the tongue once oral over crowds
Gloom has journeyed its last equine, its axis tip-toeing alongside hectic rivers
hidden by musing, and intentional string of thought- but not once with

metallic vine, or brilliant vale... that which hides the bittersweet, the spontaneity

(c)