:::poetry
Chatting, I hear you chatting
Awoken by the chirping cast against the dripping drumming
the midling pillars in my stone room

Haste the edge, my feet know me better than my heart still
Chatting in the night the words piercing through the echoes of the silent moon
Half-moon
Entombed, Casper calling that 'this coffin's not my room'

Talk to me my lark, reflections off eroded walls, a flick'ring multiplicity of stars
Matter, it moves too slow to in effect pursue the musings of my vagrant heart

Gather round the fire roasting vultures with the flagrant lexicographer
'Lucy, share with me a kind word."
Accelerating survey of the data, graphite sword,
Across the cavern pecking at the holes into my soul beneath my violet laurel growing mold

The imagination canyon,
where a distant sight can strike ecstatic,
dropping capsules of the whole world.
:::