"The Roses Never Slept"

I watch as roses explode like fireflies,
thoughts traveling like winged elephants, with speed and mass,
colliding with walls made of solid vapor and translucent iron,
erupting like ancient volcanoes into trees of future knowledge,
denting cars and bling-bling like reverse hypocrites,
tearing away at the emperor's new clothes like
iron teeth ripping flesh from the bones of jaded souls,
eating french-fries and voting ballots while
walking to and fro upon oceans of forgetfulness,
television sets billowing their sails with blasts upon blasts of vast
nothing escaping from detached lips in cosmic stasis.
And the flower-beds fall together like super-massive black holes
in the skin of my ancient celestial instincts, devouring time like moths,
filling whimsical afterthoughts with the smoke of regretful embers,
deep seas filled with mysterious apologies from the hearts of
anthropomorphic sheep. I grasp the fabric of space with my teeth and
find secrets beneath the thumbnails of interstellar deserts,
midnight worlds lit by fireflies of fluid determination,
DNA woven like ethereal spider-webs across oceans of being.
The roses never slept.


Copyright (c) 2006, All Rights Reserved