"dream caused by the flight of a bee around a pomegranate a second before awakening"
My eyes are cherried cigarettes,
two pomegranate seeds,
staring at this screen fuming light:
"a hand painted dream photograph"
reflecting what I have not dreamed.
The voids between
thoughts I cannot think:
I have been insane here
and then I'm going to laugh like Goliath
after getting my ass handed to me
by some pre-pubescent with a god
and a slingshot.
I have murdered time and space here
waiting for laughter
laughter coming like a dream on the precipice