adelewoods

He licks his fingers And turns the page; His eyebrows twitch, They twist in rage He slams the newspaper - Smashes it to the floor; He stands up madly And runs for the door! He yanks on his boots - Hat and staff equipped, He emerges smelling of Death Ascending from the crypt He makes his way to me His beard a twisted flame Of golden and red braids; Like a wizard from a game He licks his lips, He thinks some more, Then starts speaking, Recalling all the gore, " The car will be a Chevy, It will hit you from behind, It will kill you on impact And leave the passenger blind, Noon-day tomorrow, Tomorrow's newspaper said, Be

You smell like ancient Something I remember Feelings not so tempered Something very old Something brutal and cold In my December Not left to reason My feelings betray Internal treason A very white day Machinistic slay I- there is no such thing Blue- hues pass by this train Fire Fire You- Was there such a thing Red- singing; so much pain Fire I need Fire Not left to reason My feelings betray Internal treason A very white day Something brutal and chilled Something robs my will.