Through the Gates of Tartarus: Curtained Dawn of Paradox

The angel-corpse of Lucifer upon which hate is built
has been buried by the sergeant underneath the silt
of warlord shores and cryptic throes, those sympathetic strands
of the shifting shadow flames of a hundred open hands

Surging such, though thunderstruck, the menthol mermaid dreams
as oyster-opened hopelessness splashes on the seams
of the angry ocean god of oil, trash and grime
who upon the hound-dog deaths can never find the time

Those broken clock-face Eden screams of Adam sold to scores
are murder-faced typography that pull the curtain cores
from the apple Knowledge-breath the snake has thus consumed
the hardnose happy golden coins that demons must subsume

Bear-trap amber wooden fakes and falsehood freedom nights
penned by Cain in Abel's blood upon the Bill of Rights
those Plato forms of flaming horns and sparking vinyl sighs
that curdle all the love and praise of twilight manic eyes

Hark the silver gunfight thoughts that burn in angels' ears
of farmer crops of knowledge-vents and iron-coated shears
the import of imported goods in the Kingdom of All Souls
cannot be stressed enough by miser-guidance coals

The aching, quaking trade regime of marching diamond men
dapples stadiums of hype to erase the armaments
of collective action wars in heaven-hell mistakes
known to all the choral gangs as seas of burning lakes

Melting, melded resolutions of the praetor prize
are lauded by the Lord Below as sacred, true, and wise
the steel-mill Satan summer screens that seem so kind and clean
burn inside the convict bars that burst the crowning queen

A deck of cards inside the sanctum shuffles gypsy tents
as tarot fools and pointless rules demand the mail be sent
a compromise of spiky shells negotiate the fate
of the mobile mundane malls that seize the soap to sate

Their endless thirsts and Fender throats that scream the devil's light
to all the harmony and hope of fallen fang delight-
the trade and mindset of the published patriot and priest
protects the patient proctor clones of clement booted cleats

The ruby-roaming ranger king begins his roaring prayer
to dispute the beast within that claws with golden hair
havoc highland soundboard signs of scathing psychic scythes
reap rewards from rounded reichs and diplomatic ties

To textile tins and tens of tongues, the tempter tempers, feigns
those cowboy rebel angel tears that drive the kings insane
so that the pepper-salted face of David could become
a combat crown of lustful lies to blame upon the sun

And as the royal regal-thighs of states begin their stride
the devil's dues are paid in full and Charon claims his ride.