| EPIPHANY Scaling the ladder of notes he hopes that the salvation of creation that wraps me in coats will find in my oblique mind a familiar fervor singing like a chime. Echoes and reverberations from golden bells toasting salutations of a widowed piano serenading me with permutations of cathedralic arches and incantations. No! of inoculations against algaed puddles, minds muddled with schedules instead of sowing one�s oats in fertile fields: golden poem-stalks revealed to be the bread and butter that silver tongues tend to utter carefully and rarefully honey drips from my lips like a yellow pear succulent and sweet is this fruit�s meat a treat to my palette and ear to hear sweet upper register tones and baritone moaning and lament. See this breathing sound sent and soaring, orbiting round my head as Olympus is brought to us through speakers and digital boxes that rocks his lungs evicting oxygen brung, in favor of a tenant of a richer bent. |