Feathers and Fancy

 Dreamless and lost
in a mind of feathers and fancy;

headless
without ceiling,
nonsense drenched with
the unhinged conviction of
solidified knowing.

No, no;
it’s heedless 
yoyo disintegration
of runaway spirits
scattered in the ceaseless tock
of arhythmic time.

Electrical metaphors,
impulsive,
unstable,
but oh so pretty;
previously seen  in the spastic dance
of St Vitus gone a rye,

unplugged
in a 3:00 AM
torpor.

One thought on “Feathers and Fancy

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