Insanity Mind Complex Insane

Dogs are barking stories to the moon
like a litany
I am cold alone
watching this story unfold behind
around and
before me.

Kissing the clouds with crusty lips
as the city falls below me
expressing dreams and secrets like I am called in irony: an attorney
Get me paid millions to tear up and freak this foreign family
the commotion and emotion subjugating and impounding...

I look down like a God as I poke the the trembling embers
my feet embroiled by a disastrous hidden ending
something eats the drips of many distracted members
that push and pound into the depths of the scintillating cigars
held by holders holding me in the hidden whore-house like surroundings.

Cigarettes would freeze in flaming glory
if it wasn't for the cars blasting by-the-by damned fury
heating the streets like candles in a Roman wake or birthing or some ancient relic delighting in insiduous ceremony - melting in church glories and jesus christ awakenings;
I might just visit the heavens but the burning crisis criss-crossing across my chest crucifixing christ condemned visage brings the same forehead that held crosses and bells
down along the slimy sickle-visioned visceral incisions across toilet bowls divisoned
holding my bony nose down to snow white buzzing light sounds frightening fucking history.

Horror words falling down ears as if they were nothing more than empty seer-pits seared softly of all apparent witness to the bliss christmas morning virtues of sunday school in snow-shoes.
Still pushing me down into the darkest sinews of inextricable milieu where my peers open up like the aforementioned manholes dripping sweet with the narcotic misconducts of our century.

Manhattans pressing my peers open like cards into undigested fears
the acidic repercussions placing crushing vice-like gushing lice-lifed percussion belt-drone bastard battallions personifying the emphatic delusions I once held grand in my hedonistic brain collusions always colliding.

Did I snap awake like coffin-lives living cracked by the splitting tires showing tracks to the places where the sore walking dawn stalking boys broke their faces brutally smacking against the windows stained like wind chimes in China town hurricanes slicing frowns upside down just to fit them into London-like crowns worn frightfully high and brought low now to blow apart the waterfall-flaming tears of crusading pains burning down the mountain-side frames of growing boys groaning into old men still toying with fucked up fake ploys that try to solicit their millitant smoking frames untitled yet united through the same reigning pains frolicking in caustic writing politic poems written acrostic across pages that dilate pupils in the horrid nightmare-dreams.

When awake happens the sun so brightly sings and speaks from the thrones of too many kings

_"Child,"_

(emphatic pause
let the saliva drip
drip,
a tear-drop coarse)

_"Child..._

_do it again."_