"Foaming Pipesnake"

the weather has turned mischievous
even as lately through wide eyes i saw
maggotjockeys
in the lonely temple that my heart is

it may be for nothing that we are
my green veils slips away
and you were hung up, dry, a fidgety ghost
stop flying high on that English

but in time the fading voice grew wise
whom do i hold it against?
i wouldn't wept at my state
as loyal as the thistle that in session

the Island won't let you


Dinos on the moon. (via Sclerotic Rings)