centennial in months... - tamborinea lyrics
these hands are harmless
until the earth holds the other end
dangling, in left, the red dress
throw necks out, come to a head
weight from behind eyes, idle
evidence of currency’s epilogue
surface in silence of spheres
even as the goddess forbids
collapsed upon dolls, all over
each busy motion corrodes
outlines of time iodine in passings
deeds done to merеly soften ire
welcoming curtain obfuscatеs, obstructs
things that used to be done taunt
purposes never pull their weight in rays
routine to clench and empty the giving tree
young and hopeful gaze upon like autumn
the product lives but no more is realized
sight of others exhibiting the wish
pulled in directions that never existed
patter of rain like small blows of inexperience
friction burns through vital layers of covenant
pace fails to endure currents on two
sediments slip from beneath, proceed at a slant
taking pride in vestibules of falling short
monuments in the path of reward
conviction never b*ttressed by sufficient evidence
fragile identities cease to be relieved
plasm with less *rg*stic potential
flowers pummeled by their supply
fetishized idols keep open eyes closed
peripheral hues flagellated into redo
shudder in suds of camera shutters
less than hope beyond woven paint
assault as an expression of ardor
tactile stimulants diminish with severance
care comes in pairs; social and venereal discouragement
existence without institution proves futile
the taste of alcohol in every vase
fire follows the wire down into devastation
a belt broken on the production line
perilous trust in dished contraceptives
carrying leaves up to the burial peak
thresholds of disturbance, ignorant
stand in solemnity beneath the letting
decadent movements away from declaration
an icon in defense of disruptive panache
cardiac convicts above resuscitation
eyes pried open in ludovico
feed between the resets of sleep
the prison of efficiency in perpetual eddy
exodus from the most blissful abode
(employment of rigidity unmitigated)
centers of balance regurgitated
massaging the tears to document awareness
theories of ownership have boiled over
velvet sounds of bells grown by those dead in renown
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