Smiles And Cries, A Comedy of Rakes

"Smile then."
"How..."
By light of moon
Be spoken.

         This thorn has caught my arm.
              Threadbare and worn
               My shirt is now torn.
                 In the heart of the
                   Matter, largely
                    Lying within
                    The Motion.

"LASCIATE OGNE SPERANZE, VOI CH'INTRATE."

                     The same I

                Haven't got a care
               Except a new ware
             Perchance, like a rebel
            Once again, a feather to
           Be, splendid, plus a side of
        Reason, a palmetto-weave woad.



Is it how I appear in a blotter of
Names, intricate father-markings of Mars.
Dominus noster, viable diction of stars.
Red-fish, two-fish, training wheel, no-car, and
Now, in living view, presented on the page:
Our Hope's New Benedict Fiction, The
New Found Pope of Fate.  Treason is
A desirous dish of fate's hand seasoned
All the same.  The cards were spelled out
Right upon the table, I even saw how they
Rained, the light caught them so able-like in a
Slow-motion picture.  A fluttering of frames before me
Whispering the same, clang, clang languor: the clatter
Of the chains.  For alms the poor linger, this old-spoke
Announced what has long been named, inveterate passionate
Mixture, salamandra-esque games, our intermediate leap-frog team
Lingered.  Ante up, enough, We know Our True fish has much hue, not to be
Brusque, not to be afraid of that stuff, as well, but not to be falling off, the King is
Just, fly high by night you Jester, make sure to call the bluff, say my room is unimportant
While the moon lingers tune a shadowy ash hint of a darker mind's stuff.  Drink aggregate
Drip tinctures of a brighter
Midnight to come, remaining an apex to
Really rely on, an asymptote of love.
Always the big picture when
I'm peeling back the husk.
Anyway,
Allow the alloy a 'once-over,'
It's galvanized by dreams
Much much stronger than
Aluminum or anything
I could really even think of.
I'm raving
Unkindness' of
Dark thoughts
That I mean,
Underneath,
Tidings you bring.
A claim raised it's
Fist, a feint
Failed smile of
Hell hath no-hounds,
No-town, no-more
Known today.  There
Is no 'devil-town.'
All my friends say is,
"Goodnight Lady
No-land, goodnight Lady
Lay, goodnight
Lady Good friends,
Good night to Our
Fate."  Our Moon
Is the same.