The pale dawn light shined on his face
I could tell he wasn’t well trapped in his personal hell
Unable to pick himself up like a child who fell
Once too many times running on rhymes
a psychopathic rant
A flaming fuchsia elephant invades my living space
Parades by with a sycophant riding him
While a hierophant stands nearby
reciting Buddhist mantras nam myōhō renge kyō,
Before my eyes behold
a white marble palace
studded with gold and quietly buried
suddenly
beneath black sands of time
He begs admission to another sanatorium
a different mausoleum where the dead struggle
with the living over words written on winds
only ghosts can decipher
coming back to attack they deny the facts
fraught with desire the world’s run amok
a phantasmagoric a little white magic moonlight
dripping ice laden branches will do me
just right tonight poppy
