Hear the claws of great debate,
scrape irrational, morris dancing
to a merry tune you never heard before,
saving grace, setting moon fall
to the sweet ground of existence,
as mad hatter makes his way home, badgeredless and
altogether, swept under a giant silk press
never to forget, at least I felt,
some over whelming, type-love, silk-fuzz.
At ease now the heart although capable still,
freezes, I take up boogie winter
chaser hides, when will mad hatter
crawl out and play, stature no matter
it flickers to flatter, to break from what's
not right, stress-ridden depression, so hard
to fight. Sweet Woman.
At least. I did. I loved. Like flid.
I loved. And not you did. Magic filled
I dreampt a dream, lured through
spiral staircase upward calling
only to drib drab de-spare, then,
a superhero moment caught from longing,
only for your fine presense to disappear.
Strength willed to vacuum pack,
the brains too picked up, needy for one
last stroke.
And there stands a guide, infrastuctural holy,
through ancient european lands.
Sun bound sky bright is where (prosper bide)
keeping nothing/something before
me, behind me darkness put to rest.
Smile on the cob, feeling hitman like samurai,
wandering into dispassionate den,
then my eyes open, but I know now you art not there.

H.Math circa 2005