4. Odin
Mr. Odin died today.
Lights off, from your
By lot, once more
Indifferent galaxies instead stay unmoved;
silent poll of colors overused.
sigh and pull the covers over you.
This latest piece
In safest sleep,
But how dreadful indeed,
you swing the iron screen.
Like a salamander shall await
baby steps inch towards crevice rays.
trading breath’s bliss for present bane.
Then down stygian stairs,
And how stingy and scarce
through sickle-lit oriental streets.
proves shibboleth for these gentle means!
Raccoons rummage round some rubbish bags,
As you plummet down from couplets past;
till a rickshaw hiccoughs from grating cracks.
still, but missed bat mitzvahs come racing back.
To dreams of whom does each one cave in
that was safe for a heathen
as a slave for the seasons?
And if flutters with the fairest
were just sins simply dreamt,
weren’t just myths between friends,
What’s more, if all you live for
still die at the end—
till lives acquiesce,
like Odin’s ashes back from the Society,
by opened latches that come undone by undine
which filled a chasm dug up underneath—
which spilled a basket among other things—
can that which kills a cat
a casket tilted back
spare his home if spread?
where its hopeless rests.
You researched a gleam
to be a guard’s whistle at your feet,
you see the jarred sibyl had foreseen
and brought your raft behind the yellow-taped grills
as not for wrapping by a cellophane sylph,
to stand onshore keen to drift
who cannot warm he who
if shark swarms withheld.
Buoy bobs through sea serpents,
Coin toss to be hers from
As roller coasters of waves comfort sighs,
has pulled your floater away from your sight.
You chase till dew sheds from your eyes
in your dim, lingering gaze,
with your beleaguered remains,
a victim of erosion.
amidst dustbunnies frozen.
(slide electric guitar)
Should you hide, or could you fight,
when your day to die has come?
But in time, wouldn’t you find
life is simply much too long?
But for a fetus force-fed, born preaborted,
Yet your defeat of tortoise, forced lead unthwarted,
your ouija board said, “Son, just hum along.”
sworn feat aforesaid, doesn’t come anon.
(electric mandolin)
then returns them as a buffer zone
can reach urchins smashed from undertows…
The sudsy ocean shapes its padded bed,
But suddenly Odin’s day is at its end;
which hitherto snubbed and spurned a wreck,
his litter to dust and earth was swept,
(fade out, Odin’s theme)
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