Stop Motion Cyclops

  I've searched from room to room, I've combed the carpet floors. I've searched the ceiling fans and inside hardwood pores. I've searched the footnotes of teardrops, I've searched the soles of shoes I've deconstructed gazes and scrutinized tattoos Always one step beyond the comet of the hallway Figments of Kodachrome sunset into dull grey Pillowed in whiskey swigs and ozone of cathode ray 50 saints harmonize but I've forgotten how to pray I've explored mustard stains, interpreted tea leaves I've rifled through the books filled with allegories I've searched through towers and towels, through cabinets and cabernets Even flipped through afterthoughts and analyzed hearsay Still I've never been the comet of the hallway Embers fading before I trip through the doorway Just anxious shadows and the incense scent of Sunday Memories snaking out the landscape of the ashtray In the corner of my mind I feel the glowing Sunken treasure stretching arms out j

  Underneath the quilted sky, Fish never forget the sea Taste the change in liquid sighs, Graves unfurled by gravity  See your lazy thought balloon swallowed by the autumn moon  Watch as your reflection sneaks out the stained glass window  Underneath Dutch Angle sky, shadows sneak through dead tree limbs Drowned in shoulders of the shy, murmured frowns and handwrung hymns From beneath the Mackerel sky, dreams de-tuned feedback your eye Horizon stained in grey-black streaks like a reverse rainbow  Just beyond the Mackerel sky, piece the mirrored shards together  Frozen in the alkali, torn asunder by the weather  Shining dimly through the noise, cursive rain loops and destroys Lift the pen cap mountain peaks, feel the healing glow