Drycicles

Stare in silence, sweet voice of crystallite

Black crow of deliverance, adorned

Aragonite.

Its wings of velvety arcades

Unending

Its eyes two fiery godly teardrops

Descending

In light.

It is the rock and the stone that fall loudest

It is the rigid embrace that binds deepest

Tonight I’ll find another way to feel

Hide from me that which is weakening

That which is deafening to my music.

G.

First you need to set a trap that’s fit for a clown,

Such as a crying baby, or a morose Mademoiselle

Lay it down slowly, careful not to tickle the bait

Then you wait for the prey

You need to acknowledge that clowns are dangerous predators

They might crack up a joke, or, even more dangerous

Blow water balloons, only to make you feel Good

But you shouldn’t give up, carefully regularly check on

The trap; The highest priced are the ones with the luminous red

Noses. That strike a pose, have goofy eyes so sad

Carrying their water-roses with them

Shouting Ha! Ha! Ha!. ha! HA! Breathe!

Dance with me Garam

Masala

Opium poppies and

Sofran

Bake my hopes and Wishes

Slowly

In this year that’s just

Begun.

Breathe with me Garam

Masala

Spicy cumin ginger eyes

As time flies we’ll wish

A memory

Tikka takka shards of

Savory

Tashuan recall of spice.

Hocus-pocus cayenne pepper

And black powder dark and sweet

On the spicy road we’ll meet

Dancing the corrals of gold.

Get me drunk, Garam Masala

And I’ll sing your tale of

Old.