Those flowers grew tauta grapho humin
Hina, and babylon blethesetai
Babylon kai never found but
In your heart the ghost of gary glitter
In black dragon dance
Blethesetai blethesetai
There was no hanging garden
Nor sable nor nail
And Saul became paul
Before the ascent on his fall
From adam to eden
And from eve at the beast
From cain at the apocryphal pomegranate feast
From the moving fingers
That wrote for the šarrum
And the crash of the image
And the death of the lineage
From shadrach and mishach
At knee in the flame
With their friend in the end
In purpureal stain
From the tip of my tongue
To the drought in your heart
From the ships in the sky
And the pyramid eye
From the cobbler at rest
And the night in her nest
And the firemen at play
Whilst her Moon eats the day
From the singing fingers
And the hooves of the stars
From the heavenly writing
That is written in dusk
From the archer and the scorpion
And the stars behind them
From the goodnights and sleeptights
At the end of the knife
From the thank Christ
And praise God
When we're naked as bone
From the ghost on the telephone
Screaming for home
From the quick in their bed
And the beds of the dead
From the én šiptu
In the clay
And the utter judgement day
For the plagues and the rage
And the noose of the news
Through the barrage of mirage
That barcodes through rays
As a thief in a blink
With the lamb as the link
As the question and answer
The prophetic cross dancer
The gift and the rift
The present and desert
The field of bled woods
The farmer in akeldama
The leukos the logos
The alpha the pi
The burster of graves
The looser of slaves
The fear in the night
When nyx mounts the light
The spring in your step
And the bend of your neck
To the sword with no peace
Nor cozy release
To the camel the cub
The jaybird above
The warrior
The quarreler
The quarrier
Angry as clouds
Drowned by the rain
Lashed my flower high
And said thank you night
Make the clay as wet as your wedge
The greek dark mouth
Copper or bronze dusk
More like I am approaching the
Traingod and I shout at you
Pentagram hexagram
Under your telegram
With your hammurabi eyes
And your serapis smiles
Your spirits of the air
Ran through me
I vanished which celluloid gift
Told me that
Or hit me with spermes
The winged seed
Or the flurries of your treat
Bend your eyes into her
She was the pinnacle mysterial
The finger at the tip of your heart
The mist of milk
I recalled your eyes entered
Into the christall mountains
Often tasted your breath
Heard the angelic breaths
Parter
And praying I would descend or ascend
Into the whole
I went to hear messengers clash
Or spell time out
In constellar pieces
Touched your dark close
Cloud to my closed lips
And waited for st. Mary to announce
Bells forever at a quarter to ten
