Flee, Thou Matadors! - mewithoutYou

FERDINAND:

You the coverclouds in a midnight sky

I, a little snowflake waxwing high

Erring on the delicate side:

Who can mark the hour our soul sick friendships die?

MARIA:

Ever felt like Noah on an overcast day?

David, take down your harp and play

FERDINAND:

You hatched your little plan when the first fell through?

The wicked in you ran, though none pursued!

MARIA:

You’re toeing a precarious line

Silk shirt for a sackcloth king---

David, take down your harp and sing!

FERDINAND:

Clockwork drama in a Josten’s ring

Ever on the verge of catastrophe…

King of Spain, Queen of Portugal

MARIA:

I ran to the sea but the sea wouldn’t hide me

The oceans agree there was no one to hide!

Will my story give way to the weight of its gravity?

~self-appointed-cop-and-spokesman-of-the-end-times~

FERDINAND:

Knockneed step and a bent-back spine

No sense of direction besides…

MARIA:

Patterns in the clouds over lake Cascade!

Message in the sounds of the Air Force planes!

[offers claims on an extravagant scale in

Elaborate (if laminated poster board) display about chemtrails]

Tinky’s harp on the wall next to Janis Joplin!

FERDINAND:

Man, I coulda sworn that I saw

The cosmos in the livestock straw…

MARIA:

Early cartography sea creature dragon and all?

King of Spain, our songs proclaim

That you’re Queen of Portugal

King of Spain, our prayers in vain

Till you’re Queen of Portugal

Owls now sail toward seas of Africa

---flee, thou matadors!

Courts of dandelions

Wars of Oranges have conquered us!