NORDIC TWILIGHT

In the twilight of the nordic night, the robin sings,
the dawn, now not confined to morn, in balmy
evenings soft with dew, or summer's blooms
perfuming blade and branch, in mellowed
atmosphere, suffused with wine of sweet liquors.
What peace, what breath of nocturne dreams,
secure from fears and dreaded thoughts, when
winter rips and rends this gentle nature's dress.

I was thought out thinking…

shimmy with the sham
the glue gun bold hold
like spot welding

slap a thigh and tell
me the Hull is fresh
for frolic

Cut plasma ideology
with the tip of your intellect
like a cats tongue
sipping cream
on a polished floor
from a turquoise bowl

marvel of engineering
she moves smooth
gliding through the
sets
in her
repaired retro dress

cough up some love
to slip inside
the warm smooth
cups

its her world
and she'll
eat it up

I didn't sleep again today, it sucks
but that is my usual insomniac way
running, drugs, bad books don't aid
it doesn't help to run away,
I've considered a blade.

I'll get up and walk around, even run
for no productive purpose i can see
my general premise isn't a sound one
but I'll be the best that I can be

so wash and eat, the basics help
even if it seems inept to do
I ask you, seriously?
what would you do?