Fearing Idols of the Marketplace

Fearing Idols of the Marketplace

(Our Drive toward Virtual Taverns to Share Saloons)

L. Edgar Otto Sunday, 21 April, 2013

Toxic rivers flow inland in the watershed of our

horizons in fear or fear not felt, illusions held distant

Between the crisis flight suspending time into itself

we like flying squires could never touch the ground,

Perpetual In motion yet to over plant the acorns, old growth seed, forgotten at the planting, leaving caves,

Empty hearts forever not disturbed in nesting rest, hibernation, awakened sleep by season's incubation, Our stale fluids flowing out to pristine boundless seas

Stuttering and tongue tied what you call your poetic slogans, a drunkard's tune your belonging an anthem

Until strapped to your vest your loneliness goes nova

taking indifferent crowds, rewards returned with you

As if the shock waves in the cloudy emptiness can curl up storms of dust, terror terraform the same stars

What is this doppelganger in our privacy to abort the promise for expectations standing on mountains past, shadow worlds

Umbilical the old coat hanger tourniquets in anger

Loners following their boners in search of plenty fish

shot in a barrels contained virtual fantasy, higher seas

Asking in their hearts for so little yet everything, the access thru swinging doors or revolving doors hiding Under clothes play hide and seek department stores presenting colors true and false to the perfumed wind

Turnkeys and doormen take their cut and they adored

for their sacrifice and protection, forgiven their neglect

Of vigilance standing into danger shared in innocence

Come with me until the bar close that after bar we can gaze at each others curly twinkle toes share the cave With togetherness in Paradise to know and knows that inside or outside our hearts no difference or if an end

Some vague dream where we begin, find the haven

your lighthouse and discerned skies away from storms

Star-crossed, surprised but some wink ship in the night

echoes, empty shells, hints terra firma walks of shame

Try to care for the land crawling out an endless game.

The Great Bear once had a tail that points thru the hunter to the Virgin, ice clad glacial thick its armor

Skin to bear awakening too soon in winter and hungry

the mesmerizing wound of lunatics meet the braided

Rings of Father Time, illusion vanished as godhead

dethroned by indifferent beak the swan, the tastes and

Glory of young men, Ganymede, as pure as they're angry, conniving wives alarmists lies or abusive bolts of lightning, Entering the tunnel of Love more frightening

But that Bear watering his mouth seeks a North Star

Now thru an hourglass in spin finds all targets moving.

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