But where do they come from?

I don’t know

They’re still on the tip of your tongue

or at the edge of his pen, cutting, slicing

felling, trenching and trimmer

flat gloss, color serious a bodiless corrosive thinner

and a slippery painter’s palette for a thick coat of fine print thinner

Latex and varnish for hard monkey head, astral cheeks

for a poor junkie’s shed

Searching for moonbeams in the great periphery of her mind

tying up a glass of butler to taste yesterday’s stale hickory wine

Interplanetary outfit for all these tricks, a moral lesson to be learned

of barbs, competing for Urano in nothing more than a complete wholesale trade

Spiders in skillful attack rocking the skies in a genteel spiel burgh

constant chatter, odd vocalizations, an unusual cream puff pastry

So keep it up, don’t let them down, nectarine swirls, honey pearls

Savoy coffee and truffle dessert

Killed in a kaleidoscope hadn’t realized the lights had changed

At a northern dawn, the sad-eyed ladies take their shine and sparkle

riding up the scaffolding for the right bed at noon

crocodiles bundled up in a swampy festival of reason and rhyme stripping away all excess

Stiff mud, intermittent mud, promises of no mule deer

as mistaken identity can sometimes take the cake

either chocolate or vanilla, or any other flavor

Still, the peanut brittle has never been known to stop

either sold in a small package or licensed in a diabetic store

who may be known to pop the weasel in a midday sun,

Living life for the sake of eating candy by anyone’s standard is not good for anyone’s teeth.

Loaded guns for penitent soldiers at work, pinning their thumbs

and playing an arabian drum how long will he wait

But please, go back to basics, as the enemy may no longer wait with glowing eyes.

and his heart of gold

Yet again it may be time to allow him to bleed, to register his evil

and to see what he’s done, get into his head and let him sleep

instead of mercy for a single time he will embed the wounds of his adversaries

That rot and stink in a putrid scene that can only be forgiven by a saint,

an unknown character who is mounted on a mount

Bare chested in a deep sea chair, he’ll see his day at some point

before she comes to cry