The entire terasverse was in my stomach, and too,
All ancient timestrophe through the sons of Vonnegut in there,
Like Dresden scene in Slaughterhouse 5 film, they shot the doll soldier
Dead! Quite unrequited, lay Dresden; my love.  He said to a graduating
"Class, be prepared from here on out for things to get
Unbelievably and undeviatingly worse."  Anyway close   
To that Nero fiddles with my chorded neck while the phone burns.

So much so that, through your frozen photo and a year's electronique
Shale -- you with avant-garde shades -- compiles, (felt it land tonight),
A snowflake that I missed.  It feathers me.  It strides the unreverse
And kicks Capricorn's Goat Nero in the rich substance of her main cat gut.
I only hope you are still free, I only hope you think of me, as once you
Did "high in a sycamore, glad and away," I only hope you dream hour
After hour of dance: mambo, jitterbug, cha cha, waltz, little black dress

Samba; but your tiger not to butter turns, if you won't melt, I mean.  Don't
Show me a love that rips away at your six tentacles.  Suffice to say there 
Is a part, Unique Lydia Flake, suspended in The Chamber O'The Liquid Night
Near absolute zero, solid, not lingerie mannequin, selected for any wind
Oh wind oh why! why! such perfidy? It abideth not with the young dream!
Once in a chauffeur's flop I drank some pleasant beer quite alone listening
To her people read a newspaper on radio.  Magic; I was in a charm chair.

Soon the chair was surging with death house voltage and the light dimmed
Outside to vegetarian cheer (they should have checked my folder, Berenice)
And that's why I won't meld all your treble clef self to the bass within my
Great staff.  That way lies madness and  "I have seen the best [hearts] of a
Generation destroyed by madness: starving hysterical naked:"  under
Glass in a drawing room with neat professional antiseptic sign; that never
Ever began to tell her story, of what was really inside, for all eyes dead, (or

A life.)     

                                                                                                     Wallace Darwen Brindle
                                                                                                     ©  The author 2000