Inverted Hats

I speculate a dream, at pace with colors, at visions looking inwardly: such soft melody, such rich survival, at symbols, signs, a bit under-guarded.     I cello distinction, precise with silence, at tension with images: to sense game-works, to play such music, while cusps bleed indecencies: this mug of patience, those fair skinned damsels, at society eager with indecision—this blue moon, so sad and anxious and courteous and starving and cooked and ruined with such green ribbons: those cryptic thoughts, this tomb of rivers, this indicative warfare—to die a smidgen, to relive life a smidgen, at fire cringing but feeling goodness: those black arts, that silent advice, to retreat by thoughts this liver: as bent towards us, our greatest mentors, to ask about our concerns: to push our corners, to sway our hearts, while coping a bit vague and distant: to prove points, to plant seeds, this buffoon at terrible prose: as unstoppable lettuce, or minced onion, at lawyers, at psychologists, or so under dirt it feels terrific.     I fight thoughts, this real enterprise, those frightening, intangible, but realistic fears: that jasmine rose, those jasmine niceties, at jasmine deaths, or jasmine resurrection: those jasper tulips, that frozen marigold, at courts or dungeons, trekking this red atmosphere: as cut bones, or bloody blue livers, to wreckage as reborn: this bottom gravel, this treasury of kisses, at angst alive but suffocating.     I drown in poison, this frigid, remarkable, and difficult perfection: at dreams drifting, at screams relaxed, or channeling while making love—this force by chaos, this brilliant light-bulb, or fantastic skulls aboard this desert-ship: such dirt and sand, or tears and dragons, at snakes to hit violence: this tragic sunshine, this Yahweh cave, as one terrified about darkness: this crazed tale, this inner split light, while darkness taught a lesson: if but trenchant discussions, or blue-black skeletons, while blood trickled through Ezekiel’s sinews: this other woman, this slither through membranes, to arrive rejected or punished by love: at agony rivers, or haunted houses, as mirrors speak in tongues: this glass fixture, this spinning rapture, or God seated in lowliness: at terrible castles, or terrible movies, to envelope a crown ten yards to dangers.     I need maturity, I need this glove, I rapture in silence: this moon bleeding, this sun fiery red, those stars abased and feeling good: to die at passion, to mission like a curse, to rebuke bull-intensive language: this fair perfection, this lovely creature, at total disguises: or performing A-Class, or received as C-Class, where hearts need submission: but hell to damages, those closed doors, to celebrate precision: this field negligence, this in-home captivation, to arrive so entrenched God is yelling. 

Shook suddenly, at distant scars, or bars speaking Australian: this broken home, this menacing savage, this curse in flesh: this woman laughing, and feeling good, a troop of minions co-signing: but swan to earth, this girth of valleys, to rebuild and feeling sanctified: at perished presidents, or rising criminals, to seek Al Capone: this fool with taxes, this misfortune, at tension bleeding intensities: our long battle, this fool with surprises, to speak as if—this cut to gristle, this marrow to guts, or sipping while thinking about Love: as perfect a curse, or imperfect a curse, to find such balance: our psychic souls, our psych brains, while dealing with a new problem: as bashed for graves, or tombs to language, where division becomes our highest grounds: this welfare community, this treacherous mother land, while fathers are deemed responsible: this common knowledge, this receptive memoir, where pillages spent for damaged: our aches screaming, this swan to merry land, or so stuck for pretending happiness: this white Jesus, or this black Jesus, a bit terrified of this Bohemian Jesus: at dear shadows, running through projects, listening to coins: at oceans tucked inwardly, at remorse ignoring plants, while cursed for feeling justified: this tricked mentality, this Beelzebub influence, or so in torture it feels good to ruin life!