HENRIETTA'S GOLDEN BALL FROM BARCELONA (II)

Split-screen record in a soiled, boiled mind.
Sprinkling spaces in a spacious time;
rambling records in audacious time.
Rusting riots in my rear-view mirror rhyme...
and I am gorgeous, gorgonic lustful worthless.

Spoiled-spent hour (us) in this spoiled, soiled kind.
Freckling furies and faldacious falcons;
red-silver longings of rough response.
King's crown's coronaries in my 'Reich'-rowned duns.

You should understand, I am no solypsist turner;
you should understand I am the fool from my youth;
you should understand I am the corpse of coronation, but
you must understand I'm the 'B' of 'John Sloop'.

Henceforth grace is the mission,
and the 'tin cup' plays but an important role.

Here I think: I am the m-user-stipious.

Here I think: tu as de plus-en-plus!

...and still my miracle, shadow and nonrelying shock...

(hysterical calm,

repeats realms)

...after a devious descent.

 

M.J.C.A. 10-02-2004