fallslikesnow

The Cliff Walk on, the stores disappear behind mist       The roof, distant, layered, pearly Gray, in front of a cliff the hits like gods fist       A slice of the Earths crust from late to early

The Haze They sell only strange things now, see through the haze       Sand blown in from distant, dark-roasted dunes Things move overhead in the heavy daze       In the stream, in the stores under dark moons

The Fountain Water was flowing into a fountain       Now overflowing onto a strangely Mosaiced marble floor to a distant plain       The stores recede, seen only distantly

  The Kiss Salt and sweet and coats inside of mouth.       Fountain sounds slower, the light seems thicker The flower descends to kiss cheek       Now the colour itself flows and light flickers

The Flower Flowers, impossibly Georgia O'Keefe,       Involuted and drooping and seem to drip Sweet secrets that slide thickly down dark green leafs       Put your lips to a leaf and take a sip

Green and White Not going up but falling from a high       Roof that has lights covered in green leaves Spilling dappled patches of viridian and white       Walk into a world of green and white weaves

The Empty Mall Choose the wrong door, there's a dusty shoe store       Come out to an empty mall, deserted Fountains seem larger, air is like quartz, flawed       Light like liquid spills on plants inverted

The Universal Mall Space filled with the same stores across the world       Go through one of those doors in Lakeline Mall Come out at a mall in France, space is curled       Around the only and all, the True Mall

The Mall Take the mall of your choice, the fountains fall       The plants breathe, a retail jungle, predators The credit departments want you to fail       Painted birds flock near Hot Topic, see doors

Side 4 Tonight I will measure out the lines I will stride from the stones to bench to tree I will step softly and avoid the mines Set there by those who hate me to be free I am now a broken kaleidoscope Every month I am turned by my meds Their changes turn the dial, my perceptions Shift as the shattered glass turns and my Personality changes, the colours Define me, but they have moved against each Other, grinding, producing sparks that start Fires I can only see through broken glass Something's under the ice, the ice is thin It rises, the ice cracks, lines spread out like A spider web etched on the frozen skin I will hold them, the lines on this cold lake Through the lines of broken glass I can see The spider web of my soul torn apart By gales of med driven wind from each side Of the square, so I stand in the middle And despairingly, desperately try To hold it together, as stones and trees Move when my back is turned and the line...

Side 3 I well remember people, places, things But no matter where,  it was people and They always broke me and the Empty Kings Of Addiction presided as I fell Their eyes were full of joy, wisdom and tears Their hands with scepters, with pipes, rocks and papers Don't want to crash, just fall my dears Into the depthless blue but I fell From the steeple of my hopes to the ground Of my fears and I look down as I fall On the Empty Kings Of Addictions' mound Where they stand with their eyes filled with love

Side 2 I wake at 6am Waiting for the engines of healing to begin. Engines are on at 6:30am Short men in dirty overalls struggle with them in caverns of polished steel Meals are at 7am, 11:30 am and 4:30pm At 7am the engines are running at full speed Cylinders the size of buses reciprocate obscenely. The short men are stressed. They watch dials, worry about grease steaming away. Classes are at 7am, 11:30am 1:30pm and 3:30pm Recreation time is 11am to 11:30am. Walking the quadrangle is tough on the nerves. Who knows what side 4 will contain this time? Ward meetings could be anytime. Advanced hypnotic techniques are used. A soothing yet authoritative voice. Spiralling patterns like spinning seashells on he TV. We are told of possible engine malfunctions in the near future. Meds are at 7:30pm For some of us the time when sunlight though a dirty window resolves into images of the short men, filled with joy and wisdom. At 7:35pm the light is sour yellow, illuminating dus...

Quadrangle 1. a plane figure having four angles and four sides, as a square.   2. a square or quadrangular space or court that is surrounded by a building or buildings, as on a college campus. 3. the building or buildings around such a space or court. My thoughts are starlight Through broken glass And when that splintered light Falls upon me I will walk one side only I will walk in shadow Quietly crying, "I am here! I am here!" Like a small child Lost on a beach

The Face If we could tear down the sky like the cheap Drapery it really is we would see All these things and more, but behind it all, We would see a face - huge, asymmetrical Broken like a boxers at careers end Eyes red with blood, blurred with tears, filled with rage Look from a face like an ancient mask of Terracotta, cracked by time, unglazed Dusty red, wet lips move, slow syllables Make out the word of unmaking, one word An eon, a mad god unwinds the threads that Hold together the world behind the sky

The Machines In other places hidden by the sky There were cascades of machinery Turned, powered by paddles pushed by super- Sonic waterfalls, pistons and cogs moved Together in relays as long as A continent, as high as a house. engines That carried coils of data upward to The inaccessible peaks where, under Loops of light, reality becomes real And flows downhill in vast cataracts to Infect worlds below with consistency

The Cities There were cities up there, intricately Carved into living rock, up and down a Thousand feet, fifteen feet deep, elegant Homes, one room after another, shallow Caverns containing formal gardens, scents Of mountain flowers drifting over rocks that Were encrusted with lichen, pale gray, rose Red grey, washed out pastels against the Dark grey of the rock, there were farms, six inch Wide terraces of pounded rock mixed with Excrement. There were vertical hunts for Nests of giant birds or the lizards of The High Cliffs where loops and curtains of light Crash against jagged black rocks forever

The Cliffs There were cliffs so high they curved above us Striped with geology so old, so rich It had no names, not even those of the Miners who died in the winding holes they Dug into the cliff walls, holes to the sky Rapidly closing as the rubble falls Behind the miner who looks over His shoulder, drops his pick, sees darkness fall And outside, on the cliff face, another un-named dot appears, revenge of the cliff

The Sky Those who love the azure sky, beautiful Limitless, a place for the soul to play Should know that the sky they see is a lie A cover for the glories behind, that The horizon is too low, a jagged Cheapened line carrying far too much Sky, far too much weight, unlike the past

A piece of magic, a faked broken wing It's love, pure. simple, a sight that lingers Sentimentality aside, how could This be anything but a mothers love To pull along on a leash of weakness The predator, a task that's endless Again sentimental, but no surprise There, where success is achieved by lies "Hide the Secret" is such a human trait When the opposition force is too great To distract, to hide, to make things appear Other than they are, learn to make a tear In the way things are, and slip through a wing Save the young, pull a fast one on the thromg Of those who would hurt you or your young, but How could evolution, blind, cause such love The slow grind of mechanistic forces? Or a benevolent creators courses? We should know by now that often love is A blind mechanistic force, a habit, has No purpose beyond its own selfish needs And a creator had best stick to seeds The fifteenth way of looking at a Lapwing is for a gene to go and ...

Augury is the art of telling fortunes by watching the flight of birds The Lapwings' flight always tells of the same future A future of great peril and unselfish sacrifice This prediction is always correct