Dear Dreamy Darling,
I hired new fire throwers
New golden-show lions
No audience member respects, I bet,
When they turn silver

Dear Dreamy Darling,
I hired new fire throwers
New golden-show lions
No audience member respects, I bet,
When they turn silver
Sir, hand me your arm
Give me the common rule
I’ll study them I swear
But I won’t be your
Sacred fucking fool
Their bottled sweat and fawning
Seemed like once a calling
A window shot in the night
Now high hopes’ fall is dawning
Was he looking at me?
Whizzy Annette, golly
Give me an answer, I guess, please
Guess what?
Guess who, guess him, give me
A word I mean
Give me a word I mean
Give me a vehicle I mean
I can only be me
And you, Annette?
Guess me, guess me
Find me, find me
Will he find me? Will he see?
The enclave, the dust
Of my privacy
My secrecy
Liability
When I give you the backlight
You stop, stumble, starryblind
I push on beyond the blurred lines
Hoping that these mirrors are spinning lies
When you ask me if I have the heart
I stop and stare and flick the dart
The demons rolling down the road
Those angels only look the part
The heat is breaking my skin
My seared eyes, I’m living in
Oh daddy, help me survive
Help me, my breath is caving in
He holds my arm back
From a strong sprint
The prancing gaslights
His berry-eyed glint
The saints of Arcadia
A candid serenity
Don’t talk back, boy
Are you my enemy?
So from whom do I run
On the Grand Desert Calypso?
The tumbleweeds ceased their cries,
and the drink chills the hows, the whos, the whys
The neo solis rose—
He was just fourteen
Flat lawns, flat people
One violet, one steeple
A bowed head, ruddy veins
The dust rolling down
Their winded window panes
Oh! Forgo this sunset—
It was blessed by the cursed
He’s seen the neo solis
He’s seen Moroni at its worst
Their eyes watched
His alighted, singed wing
It was this day, this moment
They stopped hearing the lark sing
The plebeians accepted
Their sentence
Lineage scoured
With cruel condescendence
See Jupiter’s glare, the tense arcus
The dust stilled, dazzling heights
Were dashed
Chariots thundered,
levity vanished, rotted, cascades
No longer thrashed
In yesteryear, they knew a rouge-colored sky
They knew of depressions and renaissances
They knew of the pitted brown winters
They knew of fresh fields calling
They now see vein’s maroon
From a high hope’s falling