I like to say the word parallelograms
Walking Pair of jello gams
Talking Pair a telegrams
Eating Caramelo hams
Hating Cerebellum jams
I have stood Barefoot in the sun
Wading through the blushing shallows
In the Oasis of the Ahaggar Mountains.
My chest is hard and brown.
I have collected the tears Of the Boswellia Sacra
as they mourn the early Dawn Sun.
I have intoxicated my self,
Consuming the hot molten rum of Dates And Myrrh.
And carelessly wandered off
In the Perils of the blistering sun.
At nighttime,
When the moon casts its heavy cool glow
The Ancient Temples burn away the tears
A hot languid incense steams
From the burning sands
showing you the way.
Once a smoothed faced man
I , the one who may beacon with tendrils upon tendrils
of Vast artificial contentment
May become a wanton wanderlust searching upon searching
The path has become part of us.
Ponderlust.
A wondrous derangement.
An engagement of planes upon trains from Strasbourg to Thames.
A suave Lothario flagrantly wears his gangrenous fougere.
A disheveled man, Long beard. Shoes worn affray.
High society Woman in gaudy bedazzle.
What do your shoes say?
Did you have a cinematic life?
Black and white?
Will you wind back the reels
Of your 8mm
Frame by frame
Only to find you have been Alone, in a dark room
Nothing more than a spectator
Reduced to a Pair of staring eyes?