To the Ex-Lazeri

A stream of consciousness poem that made sense to me at at one point.

Breeding for the funeral,
Taking the Thin man to the carnival,
Waking to find her pet has committed suicide,
The holiest of acts.
It has freed itself from the singer, taking innocence with it.

The singer and the Thin,
Bred for un-mutual romance,
Eating the bread and finding Tantric release.
Reconstructivists use her origami glory to taste the sky.

He screams; "Taste the shards of the great mannequin mirror, lest it be full and the pit succession, raped for the Jews, indulged for the healers of sand, mouthing words in a mohamidian angle, pills of dye on the children’s tongues lapping dogs and Lathurian confessions. The Naked Machine and the Trial of elders taken from the sandal of Jesus. Paper pieces placed preciously beside the tunnel of shinning words, mixed in molten metal and wasted by the brainless w****s of insanity".

She replies to him in her deep Hepburnian psychosis; "Shine bright and breathe deep the suicide shows of jealousy and neglect."

Towards a clam embrace in tortured silence,
Betwixt their high weeping dreams.
Coins fall from the floor and land on the roof of Socrates.
Down is the angle and never to be blessed with tasteful thought again.

B******s of daylight rip the children to shreds and suck the marrow.
Marrow is our soul,
Marrow is our calling,
Marrow is our end,
Marrow is our paper, ink and pen,
Marrow is what we hide,
Marrow is the B*****s of Damocles.
Marrow, Marrow, Marrow.

From beginning to beginning we ride from reality to insanity.

 

Author's Note

Massively over indulgent, but its a start to improving my writing.