Tree House Diary Entry

Blueprinted a subterranean dream house on the moon, 

           painted the Virgin nude for a nickel, 

    and finished a symphony as savage and appalling 
    as a bowl of oranges and lemons—all the while 

           the Muses shaking the branches and yelling, 

    “Brighter, you bastards! The boy needs light!” 
    and the fireflies swarming like mad, mad,

           and my princess's kisses dripping like honey 

    in our infinitely repeating dream as it poured 
    between our fingers like the sand on the ocean floor.
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3 thoughts on “Tree House Diary Entry

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