[center][u][b]The Where-was Baseball Field In River Nonsense
[/b][/u]

I watched a pale drowned girl
Murder a man thrice
While he stood alone in the junkyard
With his lit cigarette.
She swam through mass and form
As though everything, all
Was water. 

Me, the flying serpent
Watched with the eyes
Of a fourth person
Lost in skyward streams
Painted with blacks and whites
From that divine ceiling,
A brush stroked grey.

Here am I, I there is
Of the this for which
I was made, me mine
Mind mined of the eye
That is broken time, I?

Yes, me, or we? Us,
All inside the asylum,
Hello and welcome,
Goodbye, stay for dinner,
We’re having pancakes
Glazed in blood,
Worry but don’t
For it’s only genocide;
All says laugh,
And all time is up and gone,
Saying are what you, no
Real.

Forever midnight
On the eternal clock
Upon the wall; I
Did turn the hands,
And spin the wheel
With loaded chambers
I crafted, or was it you?
Walk through the barrel
With me so we can meet he,
He that made me and drifts
Still, over the river rage.

Welcome, this needle layered
Baseball field is my home 
So sit down; the corpses
Are in the box
And we can make snow angels
With the ghosts. 

Oh,
He is here?

By the chimney on the cliff,
He stands by the fire
Where I died, paper in hand,
Wonder what the scores
Were, today? Bang,
I shot my father. 
My sheets are warm
With his blood,
My warm sheets,
My sheets, sheets—[/center]