• Vol. 07
  • Chapter 11
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Sun and the Mind

Mother's kiss, a love betwixt lies,
Caught him at the throat;
He emerges from a jam jar chrysalis –
Clad in magic –
Into a real fabrication.
Bugs and butterflies
Shot through murderous wings
Echo a discontinuous reverie;
A carrot, the same blaze shade as the
                                         setting sun,
Is a stick against his guide:
A ghost with a crippled third eye and a
                                         waterfall beard.
The dead have nightmares too.
He becomes a sleuth in a
symphony-haunted world,
Hunting thundering hope,
Heralding revolution
Against imitation tie-dye skies which

Too much, too much, too much! is not enough:
Man has played his role.