Upper room

upper room

hold it close order drill upon a field of retching grass alas alas the
CRASS will indeed inherit this sullen earth plus 80\% of the suburbs
lolling on great lawns &; sheep meadows while the insurgent faction
practices night moves in the BRAMBLE... so amble listlessly
persistently down the squeamish roadway... whistle a down trodden tune
in some minor keyed up for the coming skirmish between the inies &;
the outies two factions where compromise is impossible in the light of
3 on a match... snatch it away &; dig into the earth head first
&; foremost &; let the devil take the hind most which by all
probability is still quivering in the breeze of a forgone
conclusion...

off we go into the soft stuff at the end of the street where it meets
the half way house on the corner to the tune of LONG AGO &; FAR AWAY
played upon a squeeze box prostrate on the lawn with legs split wide
while the words slobber out of a mouth contorted by an orgiastic
spasm... it twirls up &; down the spine repine entwine rapine swine
how dare you take advantage of a scene out of context &; use it for
your own rapacious &; unsavory need or want or even desire tripping
along the edge of a serrated bayonet...

circa 1914 on the mushy marshes of a FLORIDA QUAGMIRE caught in the
throat of a great gator laying in masticating wait for a warm supper in
the upper room gloom where GOD waits for his downfall with a pink
ribbon tied in his hair for all to stare &; snare this god in a
greasy web of intrigue? wet kisses &; lumps of silver coins &;
the solemn croaking of a bantam cock stuck on the number 3 by 6 is
plenty of room gloom loom for a little GOD to seek his
immortality...

because a TRACK is a TRack is a track running up one arm then down the
other while eyes try to focus on a quarter past 3 &; theres no one
in the place to show you the way to go down &; out the rabbit door
&; into the arms of the late great LADY IN RED... the floor gives
way to an EGYPTIAN sand trap to save the KING from pilfering hands
&; make eternity as comfortable as possible... but really the faro
table chap doesnt look a bit like EDMUND PURDON with his sly side
glances &; shifty feet &; phony VALENTINO stare...