924382-apollo (1)

it all comes down
as i say glady with an awful roar
under the bell
and the ding-a-ling-a-ling
saying unto its limbs
thunder, spit, throat
that my soul is flesh
as i sing with the sorrow of thunder
saying things to the shore
saying
low things
as i dive
alcibeades bites caliban, cereberus & lightening
both army ahead and sea
nothing
just a field
and saying to holy time divine
that the night is gospel
and your scent is my eden
time is emotion
god is rain
he showers too much
and washes too little, so
i drag down a star
create his lips in the same way that yours purr
no need for others
the baritone dusk
and the sentient ways of stone
and then we just held
and we skipped inbetween the sand
running
and it has to be the way
this way into madness
this carousel of flood
this lifting of graves
tooth by torch
this coast by river
bitten so loudly
but broken by the thunder of all movement
and made to sway

even if its just one poem
even if its just the fashion of the canvas

breaking colour in dirty hearts
and those awesome rooms

like me grabbing a shovel
where the night exclaims us both
wearing those boots
leather clad
banging
flesh like
this awesome sun.

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