untitled dream #3
we are west sixty-six revisited
we are bound
bordered between psychiatry and madness
and we celebrate in ceremony
counting one to four,
four to one.
in the arena of dreaming
a precipice with feet teetering
don’t look back!
playing Aeolian harp
singing our __________.
keep it simple, Orpheo.
don’t look back.
a love lost within scope of wandering
and vanished.
itself playing on bent shaft
itself a white lily
itself a love under guise
itself a nuclear proliferation.
– Hoc Scripsi
the platitudes of willful resemblance 
say something