A golden brick knocking at dawn. My
silver door opens to reveal masked f-
aces of death and whimsy. A great ca-
rnival exterior reveals profound wave-
s of crystalline rays of palest red.
Window pane extraction of leaden re-
served will bustles curtains of ta-
pestropic band-like incisors. Attun-
ed to common undulance of mirror-fa-
shioning displays gloriously throbbin-
g with fear and violet urges. Dull
mountainscape collapsed by horizon.
Jupiter glistens. Algoline serpent-
s dash against cave wall carved wi-
th circumscribed A character in re-
ference to Anthony. His lips a boa-
t, nose a sail and the winds a-
re transposed thought onto the rea-
lms of Set reflected in waters of
a diamond goddess.
Night dragon emerging. Breath of f-
ire and dances. Ecstatic death ratt-
le cycling up trees whose intersec-
tions reveal glowing bulbs of irid-
escent magnetic luminescence. The
messenger speaks. “Eddie is dead.”
Conscious ripples throughout the
fabric intoning faint azure g-
limmering that stops momentarily.
I wake up. Only vague impressions
remain. Yet they remain. Intangibl-
e in curling silent patterning su-
bmerged, just so, under the surfa-
ce. I look outside. It is snowing.
Someone stands at the creaking ir-
on gate of my cell. The messenger.
“Eddie is dead.”
[About 2 minutes after finishing
this writing something busted my
window and freezing air poured i-
nto the room. Some times God puni-
shes you for flowery language.]