Brood-fall-leap! into this cauldron-my mind. (Minds!)
Bring your courage: not one drop light!
You'll have need. Better yet, be insane.
It will keep you from lifting trinkets
from happy shelves, making them your own
as the path unwinds, locking you
to my windowpane-my world-my worldview.
It's caught in its rut, comfortable with its place:
bottom of the sea, tip of the stars.
Neptune, on the sly ruler of Orion,
keeps watch over sand grains,
equating them with mortal hearts,
even the upstarts.
Even the meek travel here safely,
singing pink tunes of tulip.
If they are meek, I'm celery stalks
with supercolumniating growth.
You will hear the snappings
the cracks of destruction,
and you will taste the snappings
as copper fear warns you:
a storm approaches.
'Rendi' told you what to expect.
I kick out my mind, bring within the acceptable form:
the rancid plate of conformity.
Now, have your pockets grown heavier yes, full?
Are your fingers slippery with sweat, leaving their mark?
Did you just tr