The hedonistic fingers of lovers.
The moaning of a black snake.
The rush of blood between universes.
The mingling of chemical beings,
fueled by an atom sized
The delicate torture of senses.
The groaning of enlightenment.
The explosion of negativity & blues.
The mingling of madness & civilization,
carved into being by the stone fingers
“giants of literature Nothing”
The Fugs chant
& here in the hollow narrow
forest of willows
there is dancing
because everything is nothing
if its everything.
& people decay
& go away
& change their minds
Or they are just as cruel
as a serpent.
This is the dance of the dwindling age.
The dance of the broken jesters.
Mangled by history & censored
by the collective motion.
Jettisoned in to Nod
not quite like Cain
exiled in to
©2020 Merritt Waldon All rights reserved.
merritt waldon, born in madison indiana, has been published in sun poetic times, crisis chronicles, road dawgz, twiztd tungz, fearless, (will Be) Sparring with beatnik ghosts omnibus, Americans & others 3rd edition, and various others; he lives in Austin, indiana