splashy paws

my frenzied mad mad world

yellow lunatic type splashes

wow type creatures all around me

stuck at phallus while pronouncing philatelic

boom boom

so

there is a door i will venture in tomorrow

faces and faces

storied faces

i will greet them

they will greet me

beautiful beautiful exchanges

there will be rivers of liquor as promised in paradise

there will be rivers of ink through which we know of paradisiacal promises

then

then what

what will it be when ink and liquor convulge

the poet replenishes in blood

the painter paints canvases unbound of blood

of napoleon invading god knows what

streets being bloodied in medieval europe

but they forget

alas they forget

they forget the magic of other elixirs

tonics

such tonics which serve the unarmed warrior

while he is cushioned in the solitude of his miserable nook

it is this tonic

callous routy kegs of beer

callous fountain pens with bent nibs

sometimes worse

nights and nights

long nights passing onto months

it is not the bullet taken

not the bullet shot

nor the distant journey taken onto war

but it is this convulgance of fountainy happiness

that takes men to know other men

brothers karamazov or the big rape

they still teach

those moods onto months onto years still teach

not the bullet shot

the baby crippled

her pregnant tummy routed

gaza wont teach

graveyards do

but to another sullied generation

maybe another sullied world

worlds