nonsense rhymes that never die
the soft spot in machinery's vortex
polyrhythms that live
in reconstructed spine
paths flowing in cool lines across
a landscape of hyacinth madness
strewn with milky violins
fire circles on the vacant hulls
of fallen intergalactic ships
diabolical angelic prancing
in the eyes that vines grow
under magical duress
a pyramid's cone peak
up ahead in the land
of weightless harbors
five fingers from the sun
in a frigid harness
light's miles of unseen matter
hurt blood in a vise grip
plastic antler standing tall
at the entrance of a seamless hall.
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