Duck

A mucken duck in minor key
Plays out to minority
Without one sullen clue

Done druthered, the duck
Spikened hair, spikened luck
Sets somber by to cool

Along the shallows
He rhymes about the day
Tonguing effortlessly into the pool

Dying fall

A whistle's youth brightens the head
Or so it did some hours past
When tightwire wonder caught itself
And now the murmur's all that last

Do you hear

Do you hear them
The tiniest pixies come to settle with you
From me
And flowing of all the ways to touch you best
Left bereft on a dissonancy

Do you feel my very form fit to fold into yours
That supple staple
pluming sting
a calling to symbiance with everything
As long as it's nothing but you

Hold me tender
Like remember
Of firsting tastes
And telling waists
That can't lie
When curves haven't quite turned them to waste

You Start to render me
A splendorty
Of immanent powers and duress
That play out like a symphony
Recorded on the dress
When you turn me to confess
When you turn me to confess

Just a big fucking pile
Outta smiles
Even list on a rhyme
Or a reason to words anymore
What black magic
What simple wits
What simple staple

And though i speak but a shadow of the best
You hear
And though i know you haven't even spoken yet
I hear

Violet 2

On the rise, i turn to peek
The star of our arrival on creep
Pulling out and away
But it was one of those days
A dawn of burgeoning sloth

By the mark of maybe day
Of maybe night and maybe nay
A contradiction flutters weak
And there a purple, lazy streak
Lays upon the world

To all who turn to camera quick
The purple flow is much too slick
And will slip from you metal eyes
I take it as sign, And thus
I take it slow to rise

Violet

She reads to me in peace
Like a violet fiber optic
Filling the rims of flower

I need no light or night
Now she splashes the world
With more than world has taken

She sings in tones of regis
Sent to her
By the wings of a hummingbird
For this very purpose

I need to know more
Stow more
make more memories
Than can be sensible to consume

She reads to me of peace
On and island what we wear
In the glow of the bassoon
There
She reads to me in peace

And it passes

When you are able
To press the freight of fame
And to lift the coils of doubt
Listen

The phases of the earth
Each their own existence
Meet and defeat
At perfect resonance

Listening

I was laying
Beside a brightlight nightlight
Trying to sleep
Listening blue

Took to forsaking
Openly abating
Anything special
From the blue

But before the night
sputtered too
I was only hearing
Only blue

A story

It was a supple story
Much easier to mind
Than to navigate
Even blind

It was a swifting story
Spun about on a blade
With emerald brightness
Of a faerie glade

It was a telling story
No one saw it again
I only wish it was my own

Pregunta

Would you call me such a name
If you knew me the same
As the birds
As the seeds pressed between their teeth

Would you speak easy
Knowing the blood I pulse
Knowing these razors
That prickle my hands

Do you think me kind
When I rip through world
As a city beat
As the winds

Hole

Loop back round for me
Whenning if you be
Rolling anywhere near here

Twisting insights
Tugged my heart
By felt-feeling fingers
Of freedom

Oh, moorish, mortish mortises
Driving the fickle for folly
But the truth to it's master:
quality

So swallow me, saints
Swallow me
And when they loop back round
They'll see
Certainly