the walls are worn
thin
with the strategy of ordinary
terror
as sober salesmen solicit
cemetery songs
to makeshift mistresses
and the slaves of oceania pretend to rebel

baptized
by feline eyes
we drive lavender butterflies
counterclockwise
to democratize this hollywood moon

crazy as a candlestick on loan
from a sidewalk medicine man
we watch the apocalypse
in slow motion
and dream of new and alternative
forms of love
as reality breeds
another classical distraction

fueled by the death of
deafening passion
the wind washes away sin
and the sun sits
on the sinking shore
of heaven