Syncing in Baths

He stranded me in ultraviolet
pick-storms surrounded by
satanic crosses
on Lincoln avenue.

Addressing the concert hall
required decoding 666.
One more 24 to 2424…
it all starts making sense!

Riddle this,
pull out your tarots:
I was two-thirds dressed in early June
and would’ve rather been stranded in blue…

There, is the tornado’s projection
of touch.
Touch–
lust,
lust,
lust!
Notice the rhythm
in sync with Baths,

yet, the Titanic lost…
There’s not much wooing
deceptive whim’s insane,
perpetually sinking votive…

Doilies are the masters of disguise.
That’s why I like sewing up mine,
I pretend you don’t recognize
the sunken heart you left behind.

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About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
This entry was posted in Other Trivial Pursuits, Recollecting Insanity, Recovery (USA) and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Syncing in Baths

  1. dipmeinmarmalade says:

    I love the rhythm of this

    Liked by 1 person

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