In these Magnificent forest of bones the spirits of motion harrow up the organism with sweet meats and gallows bird what hang off the brambles and shreik. O mother courage cannot provide for. Bearer of the blessing way the magdeline winding sheets tucked him away in the bowels of the sunk lodge, a mortal sweet barmecide hallow bespattered with hunting jug umbles and the coronation jewels. Agrarian soldiers, ignitable plantation hands, my barrel chested countryman's strewn across the haunted oak dining hall cracked open like gourds. The treasures of dresden run off the crags and arcimbaldo horn, governing the great religious activity of smote down harvest dolls, and a cool tangle of bacchae spilling from ruptured storm and drane pipes on down the legs of the table. Twelfth night the warring manes turned inside out. The murderous blackface of chreistmas past floats over the smouldering venison pot brandishing stalks of fennel and flogging thei r own backsides. Frau holda's gone. The wild hunt's leapt into the pitches. Into the arms of the parish thugs, the mighty mites sweallowed the embertide bitters. Hair of the beknighted netherlings, her walleyed childrens twisted throught St. Peter's net. A host of the wasted water tribes span the dominions splayed out like the hasanna fan. Mandan-o-keepa, haloes and parhelia, the pith angler's got pianowire braids and torches in their hair. Ever since the hanging garden smelled this way, my beautiful karl may's spoken from the hitherto unseen popish kingdom. Harbinger of the red and blue days his seven-tiered miter poked through the hub of the atmospheric churn and a hail of ball lightning burned out the almighty mouth and nostrils. Love me like wraith in these magnesium showers, the rarefied voice of another new world squelched. Ol' shatterhands gone down one last time, under the moulds he's gone to hunt down the changeli ng and stick him. Under a hatchment of prick wheel grubs his sidereal bits hits on the trysting floor and the pomander ball spun off the starry poles and killed thellittle blood girl from worms. Down in the folds of the coalsack the elemental bestiary spread out their colorul potlatch and skins, and believe in a strip of gold's acre where the whole of her being sown broadcast over the withering mistletoe flats of nativity village. Heart of heaven, mortar and pestle, the fugged hamadryades up from the whitsuntide frieze 'neath flayer's copse the emeroro barbarossa's lavished impaled our new crowned hope, the tarbaby amanita love marchen. Foramen knoll of pressed flowers and easter smaks, a rarschch trellis of puffing cocoons -- her prisma-skull prehistoric dreamtime, the abolitionist imbibed the first stirring of hope's environs, her sanctified reigns. THe blood and soil pageant flowed through the skeins, his living regalia stitched together the presidents faces. Golgotha ladder, strength of ou constitution, the virtues, empyrean glandes reached up into god's snowy beard, illumined the skytrail hymnbook where all manner of growing things come forward to be named. Dear lord jesus open theses arcane panel house opulent fiber of soul trees. Virgo fontana standing guard o'er the many eyed wheel of phospheric stump is bringing the youg master crispus attactks a foam born premonition. Eyelets and streams, she's pulled off his tremendum arms, where he spent the last of his bird augery in her haunted dress and bare shoulder.

-- Cole Palme SF

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