Friday, March 27, 2009


The Dark Fact went roaming around last Saturday,
It found its parents in a shoddy alleyway, feasting.
Meanwhile, the Casual Element poked in to try its luck
Its’ daggered mouth agape like a Nevada sunset.
In another black moment, the spiced death tango
Prepared itself for the shattered moon.

“Frolly tha hist wine onda farn,” the Fact, muffled,
“Brilly thon gren tug hast wafer.” Its’ blanketed
Mouth frothed merely at the point.
“Gintrogger dole in trast anser tumf,” hast the Element
Bid, its’ brooch hand sliding through the pocket.
“Blig tarn, thoun stahnder frilten schtumpf,” brooded
the Fact, with acquiescence.

Glib and marauding, Its’ highness, the Casual Element,
intertwined Its’ with the Dark Fact.
  Stifling the silence,
Their embrace.
  As if to scold the faraway: dark, and
Factually, It fell into illusion.
  The ensuing smile crept
Beyond the corners of obscure, where, perhaps,
Stricken with love, It, (alone) without It. 


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