Six Seconds of Sin
You’re In
Its the New Zen,
Controlling Puppets
Poor
Poor
Puppets
Faces and Arms
Hands Feet
Limbs and Sin
All Up To My
Whim

Outside Everyone’s
Rushing to the bottom
 of the Hare Hole

Clawing Through Mud and Bones
Hoping to Uncover
The True True
before Armageddon. 

Will They Make It?
All Bets Are Off.

The Suspects
Are Lined Up
In Front Of Our Eyes

Yet we Hardly Look,
Always looking down
Into Our Mirrors

The Puppeteer Gets Off
On Power
He Feeds
She Feeds
Fed Isn’t A State
For the Gipetto

I had a Vision
Wet Paper
Those Ink Stable Ideas
Wiped Away with Colorful Phlegm

My Castle that
I held
With my hands
My feet
My eyes
My nose
My bones
Now a Memory
Held only by my
Mind
Bitter sweet
twist of Fate

Whats a Castle without Cats?
Without Comfy Chairs
And Cozy Beds
A castle is a place to clean
A castle is a place that creaks
A Holy Home
Waiting For the Next
Heart
To Heal

Collection of Comfort
Compressed Inside
A Tiny
Tiny
Tinier
Tiniest
Home,
A Novel Hovel

Our Front Porch
Steps Above the Common Folk
Traded
For a Looking Glass Pool
Shared
Steps Below the Concrete Common Floor
An All Cleansing ReBirth in a Beerfest BeeHive
Cigarette Buds A Plenty in the Hearth of Mud