germanic origins

a new German night, to the gold crew
the cold of the night, to be still, still
the issues are honored, Belvedere
does not smile, or tell the time-tested
lies, the lion in the jungle, rings
magic circles disarming circus freaks
stripped down to pale yellow musk
a fiendish belly, tundra turned inside out
before you now are small rocks and
sea shells, as you saw she was selling
or had been, as you were, no words, but
swords, daggers, pre-prescribed Romulan rites
an excess of purple cloth, nervous smile
what makes the clicking man tick
enabled consistently through and through
inconsistency, my friendly devil, my only
stain, urge, resisting recollection
through and through, such a lovely shade
for my lovelies, shading the harsher tones
a man must do what a man must do what
we must make of our sins, brick buildings
trite formalism becomes quite the revelation
seeing through unopened eyes, lovely
riding on beats that advertise their no-surprise
the smooth waves, we are in passing, artists
but ah! for too long no more; too open to the tired sea
to produce patterns of sense, sputtering
i am your broken machine, that i am cannot
be expressed, only repressed, pointing wildly
there goes the mighty invisible!
the Germans will hunt him to where
the beginning touches the end
dressed in resplendent gold,
and how they will fall
over the edge
we sing
and
dance
their story
while mother ages
a new wave for her old worries