no tick. no tock.
no more the badger dams it\'s 2 O\'clock.
each tree no more a forest
than the ham that boils in honey
while the steadfast breed their solitary green.
no landscape stands more dull than king or queen.
my eyelids stand more placid
than the acid on my tongue.
the long haul to the wait.
breakfast comes through the flowers of the stars.
when all is done, no scars have we
now mother Mary hangs beside
the frozen eggs that bleed no honesty.
be silent, be descreet.
there are twelve old men with Sunday in their eyes!
it is deep within
where seven shades of sin show compromise
and follow path to the silver and the din.
I take no pleasure from the marvel of your chin,
I made nothing of the you I carried once.
I was your April twig...
both arms of stone. an old man\'s wig.
pure as glass when once I knew you well.
it was all-fools-day.
now I am gone.
and Alice doesn\'t live here anymore.
my rabbit hole is mine...
mine alone;