Geometric Allegory

A blue shingled house in the wind blurs space-time…

—a “smoke freeze fire-breeze” forms from the where?

It’s a forgotten empty plaything.

It gets prizes from the silver lid opened over and over again and again.

A gable turns now up and outward like an alligator’s mouth-smile

“They made rag dolls, you know… with linen and basted inner-seams.”

Eyes bright-black are licorice jelly beans, like licorice-eyes—steady and forever into the night.

And what of the “witch” which weaves

in a dreamless-dream?

Take the blue-blanket and curl warm in the spot.

Where along the stubbled brown trim whiskers burn their mark in time?

The “I and she” wed in the once for all and always…

We as the “we” consummated and consumed everything we’d seen.

And the “tea as stars” took our side as the witch-cup informed our place in the sky— Read, like an echo in the leaves of the cup.

We interpreted fully the signs and knew the dangers, but still we set off.

See, you this?

See?

The bed, as it seems, is a replay of some Deja vu dream-other timeline.

One part over and over again say this and I:

I say, “This. This I know, and I know of this always. Adieu and farewell. know of the always and ‘the there’ that I have always known.”

Who to ever sequence the planets to the stars!

It is done, alas.

Of this?

It’s the 144 kHz. 

More is not needed.  No more than this.

—-

The end “last signal” is the leg-of-the-“I”

Can’t speak it-or/read it, so says I.

Good then, up-gives-you this.

Not the says of the everwas of the purveyor’s drift.

Read aloud, so speaketh Absolom. 

Alisoun, me lovely- we hide in the lines.

Here get nobody the drift but a teacher of English perhaps.

Hid all allusions here nobody gets.

Loose upon it set some furtive AI.  Backward readers speaker’s “sweet bird” and A messaged “rubble-in-the-mix.”

A “new” new-year went newly by in the blink of an eye.

There was the “I-as-an-honest-friend” and the “less-than-a-somewhat” suppose I.

Counting down the “done-of-days,” these “days-of-days” say I.  It’s “oh, ever-after” as “so to speak” in rooms and it

Speak now forever or drift there into the everwas.

(All of “the spoken this,” a “loud-mouthed” around, which is the witch-pilgrim truth of a newly born moon

Here in “the room of this” is the “she-with-you-share.”

It’s a room tomb.

Deathbed confession different to what you think.  It’s the here-now “how town” and a taking toast of tea.  

Ready to replay the death dream?

Remember this from you on a bed-death now right do I.

Baby 144 kHz.

Baby