Hoary white as clear the smoke cause cloudy shapes
Gabble complaints as rats ran across from feeds for us like grapes
Rats in dusk but busy board for hands marking hissing boa off hand
Noon for nuns in rousing frosh knots known on backs adding sinners so
So the last tree plummets troubles for peace's a piece to own as owners
Knowing knowing what you know confuses already confuses the soul
Matters, as these gabbling-babblings run on resonances in spirit in mind
Nothing known ordinary as the air seems so light it patches without
a mark left for the skin as scars but the game -- grace we share holds a cuss
for others as by the hands of abstraction attraction flies shattering humankind's flesh in pains
Oozing of red milks as trees of long ages bend their spines back n' break
in twos or fours or millions by the touch which leaves us uncircumcised so
More to every heart which beats yet in constant red
As much more mysticism 'round every Angel I read.
Jodekss
© '17
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