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lyrics
Axis
of my ideals
of a blue youth
of friends, aloud
Of a dear friend
naked
tongues of alcohol
on his hair
Upon the back
of old company
just as a building topples
in laughing tremors
The brick is on the stove
and I've been constructing things in my parents’ house
a cloud of purple and blue
which takes in no light
and offers no iridescence
it is precise
and it's knuckles are laden with rings
it is encrusted and splendid
There is something around the septum
which seems to bear
all things against
in a bright light
in a single bright
there are threads
where will the the cats live
when the tiles rise?