{antithesis anticipation}

while we lie awake at night we see the inside of our eyes but our insight rightly dies when we limit our demise and so we lie away and think and push our minds right to the brink of breaking in or breaking down or stowing away or starting to drown on the boat that leaves the town and heads for cross the wayward seething turning churning motion of your stomach that you stuck with the rituals of your past that you never were encircled by (it wasn't full it had a hole!) and nonetheless there was none left when we left which is why we left in the first place and turned left at the first race starting gate and we started great but on the way we lost our pace and instead of displacing our speed we misplaced our greed and so we gave too much away and we broke ourselves broke from the fire that took out our lights and our ability to pay the way into heaven so now all we have to barter with is our barbers tits which nicely fit under my chin when he grins i grimace and sting it with the spring ships that we unload with flys which all came out of my eyes in beams of light when i opened them wide and as they came alive im sure something must die or the balance would be all high and the weights would take a dive that we could gamble on dice but each game has its price and every man has his vice and mine was that i couldnt help but look into your eyes and feel the pride and the sighs that emmited from your nice eyes your nice lips your nice face and you phased me into the pace that i needed to at least complete the race but then you left me or i left too and in the aftermath we subtracted laughs from frowns and multiplied by the towns and the times that i chimed into the circle that i squared of at the church for the last slice of the pie that the vicar saids nicer then the cherry that i spied when gaga replyed in double and then thrice and the boom part was nice and thats when i died when i opened my eyes for the very first time and i saw all the light that was absent from the room that i imagined had illuminated my tomb and the rhyme which had loomed since my first posts in tune with the rise of balloons would all but soon pop and make this whole mess stop!

SEVENTEEN OCTOBER TWO-THOUSAND-NINE