RATHOUSE INDULGENCE

Rathouse indulgence, lining the basement with wet foam served on a platter. The forest keeper is alone in his nightmare. Conjuring the sacred alligator man whose favourite catchphrase is "I'm with stupid". Yesterday's born again in the fragrance of midnight. Choirs wailing absent in the demigogic line dance. Dirge tail uplifted by vast abyss crying the freedom warp waste unknown jealous category brought to light by mirage of dandruff, crying for pity in the mercy of our children and heaven's invention of certain wisdom to likeness of a dancer on the surface of a dream. By the fall of weeping monster cries agent of Faron like satellite vulture in magic loom wheel spinning on the clouds tomorrow's dungeon will be our bed of crime to sweep away in the dust of eternity pattern like diamond encrusted ruby topaz silkworm spun cotton dirt flower orchard burning in the sea like dragon fire shaped by the stars of capricorn silent frozen uplifting heart my sudden turn of creation and magic spinning wagon wheel. Imagine the end. Imagine the stars turning into a wonderpattern that explains itself over and over with the very gesture of light cascading into circles like poem of celestial invocation tireless and exquisite. 

-GD

THE OLD SEX DUNGEON

Blessed freedom. Sweet indulgence. Matter of factly, I've paraded my body around town like a nun for almost seventeen years. Imagine that, wrapped in a shower curtain like a fairy godmother. I've owned this shop since I was forty four years old, the old sex dungeon. A special place to be after dark, if you've heard em tell. Make magic out of molasses. Plenty of asses to go around, too. Sign em up, suck em off, but don't forget to take their money. It's all part of the trade. For the sake of the song, she cried to me when I wouldn't pay up. That was the worst night of my life. I was left alone in the apartment for the next eight days. Imagine that. Crazed by the silence, into the nightmare fog worsening each day by the savior's lack of grace when he fell at the bottom of the ocean like a battered corpse of whale bone drifting slowly in silence. Dread essence of the void, pounding at the flesh made light of letters and marriage to moon and
parroting sparrows in savory essence of matriarchal paradise. Matter of factly revealed to the worst offenders is the automatic pistol whip wanted for murder in the tri-county mega corps chasing hunger by moonlight like wolf man in vogue shame of laying alone by the river but it's actually a movie set and you're always alone there anyways. I hope you like what you see. I await your review.

-GD

MAJOR LEE CARBUNCLE

Major Lee Carbuncle ascended into a dome pollutant formula causing rupture in the central nervous solar system of the cosmic body again. Suffer war criminal like valiant demon parading virtue of incest like crying woman in machine cog wheel laced with dynamite and legacy of inservitude. Major Lee Carbuncle reports to Captain William C. always and forever. Nevermind the cloak behind the cellar window looking into the fire lake like a vision of excrement soaked in special bleach concoction twisted into the veins of children and a circus rat show on world tour number ninety nine. Special ops training and a knack for poodle balloons does C. sport, never too hesitant to show them off either. A lousy bloke. Turn of the century broke itself on the frame of modernity like a sabotage terror cell engulfed by intrigue and taper claw whip sewn into blanket but left in the mud like a forgotten old testament someone heard me speak of this in my own house in the comfort of my own home. I've spoken with him many times. I'm following his footsteps through the dark forest at midnight waiting for his curse to lift. And then came an old cat who spoke French to me. What a surprise. Someone gave me a line and then I rubbed my eyes and wished for freedom.

-GD