[DEATH TO THE CLASSICS:] [PART 1:]
April 09, 2005, 17:18

[VIENNATELEXT READS:]
have your boys and girls
grow around the world
they’re going to tell you 
and maybe just maybe…
I want to tell you that Love is not Dead
No, don’t you have any doubt in your heart
I’m going to sew you a new fashion statement
It’s called loving your neighbor,
Because Love is not Dead.
I put a candle in my window
To tell you that I miss you
I put a candle in my heart last night
And I’d never let it go out
Because I’m here to tell you
that Love is not Dead
I’m going to paint it on top of the Empire State building
No, I’m not a wild and wide eyed
No, I’m not the kind of guy that you’d want to shoot
I’ve got an award winning smile that makes me want to strive
To buy candy for you and your neighborhood friends
Don’t you remember when?
I told you that Love is not Dead.

{dawn}
as the pawns lay their lives for the queen,
I drew our paths together, with coals and glowing embers 
Tonight the violins lay themselves within this tired trap
The Lull of fool-hardy kisses and hormonal dreams. 
I read your lips like rosetta stones
Still dizzy, but that’s life on the melancholy
Still covered in the white cascades; sheets of home
Set collide, let our porcelain skin shatter on the antique store floor
While I was looking for my black vinyl tarts
You were playing “remember to breathe” on your purple heart.
Won’t you still meet me in the doorway, on the big day?
Or wear him, the grin of your prom date;
Will we set the record? Slam the pin and shall we dance?
Our days will slant, like the grist in the mill.
Let the flashbulbs capture this flash in the pan
But it’s all coming with me.
The salvation skies will never taste as sweet,
But let it be said:
There are few who’d kill the lights
So their love wouldn’t die in vain.

{midday}
we sent agro to the lion’s cage
just like mannequin’s across the united states
I sent down four twenty bills and my Doberman pinchers
You could prove anything if I’d only ask you to.

{sundown}
repave the way when we relive the duchess dead on her doornails forgive
it’s a violent century, a vile centipede
when there’s nothing left to forget.
Breadcrumbs turn to mold and the smoke crackles the whole way home
She’ll see you hanging by the Victrola before her final breath. 
Wish upon a star and make a wish from the rain of broken bottles and acetone
Was it him or the halo around your head?
I’ve grown thin picking apart the memories that could be
Scratch my eyes out, I’m late for a meeting with All Love is Fleeting.
Oh, charms of charms, teach me to forget
Which mind is body and what’s not dead yet,
The cat’s thin grinning and the sirens are stately
But none can appease me lately. 
I saw her eating cherries off of the stem
But it’s Hiroshima that reminds me of you.

And all the lust in the world cannot compare 
To the impending discord in the violent pursuit of truth.
A body that’s so defined by memories
To take one out would end our secret heat.
The nine lives look their oaths, to never surrender; 
‘When what you are is who you own;
To be a servant upon a throne’ ,
Doth read the great depression.
Roll out the carpet, the low and prodding details
Wipe your feet and fingertips,
Know when you cut your wrists,
Red peroxide will line the cerulean tide,
And long lives the red, red barren. 
Your virgin chalice glinting in the imminent defense 
When those black nettles settle in 
It’s my backwash that deceived as sustenance.
One for the plaster, I painted and laced,
When It’s all been said and done in spores glistening on your lips.
When the great depression fermented the fruit from the womb,
The red barren sailed over the czech republic
Their fountains are spilling forth semen and spit,
But we’ve had nine lives to live
Until it’s death to the classics.

{dusk}
all alone I split my hair and wink back at the stars
there’s a leaflet that beats upon the heat seeking xanalogue
The hens that flinch when there’s just a hint in the serenade
But it’s filled to the lungs at the cocktail wharf like a glass grenade 
And we’ve got it made

And the fish, she laughs with a golden calf and a vintage ring
I took to the charms of the scorpion, to feel them sting
She curls in the pearls of an oyster bath and machine gun class
So hold your applause, here’s the curtain call, not the afterbirth
To wish that fish was a Pisces kiss is a question mark.

Aries eyes and Vinyl skies are just proof to you
I’ll wait in the pack with hearts and jacks until our next rendezvous
Drinking hemlock tea under the olive tree in the garden of earthly delights
In the outback there is an ivy blooming under the ultra violet neon smoke sign.

Pick my bones in the desert parch, you’re the 3rd of the month

{twilight}
In purgatory everything is fine
Ladies Hypnotize in eastern standard time
Parakeet feathers keep us completed, until the molten season poured bombs from heaven.
Down every century to asphyxiate with the gang green 
When you shake like shepherds nearly in the perfume
And you tally up the score until she arrives for the bouquette.
Out of tune clones scratch mating calls into guilty fingerprints
Danger set his clothes in the funeral fire
It’s a Diamondette that told us to forget it
And it’s in our sickly silouettes
That spell Death to the Classics.

[END VIENNAGRAM:]

to be continued...