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The Star-fields, Where Life Speaks The StarFlower: I've never seen you Eat twenty beetles and creek-beds All in one sitting Are you tired from the star-fields? Are you rough from the star-fields? Are you one with the star-fields? Rat propeller Puts them to sleep Conversations blending Together make for The karate breaks the body In a self-discipline Here you get bargain buys I've got cowboy hats And turbine cats Just take a look in The spindle bin I've got you a necklace of pendulums Men whose chins Bonk like the guitars of honkytonks Asleep Under Drama Moon Lollygag Brutus: Do you hear the sounds all around? Do you know the handshake of the clowns? In the little fire truck engines They'll throw pies in each other's faces Oversized pocket watches clonking hammers The common places Sally Astronomicle: I saw that guy over there He had questionably bendable spectacles The citable cyclone man has been deemed respectable The StarFlower: Spatial fractions Augmentation sings Pegasus's mighty pink wings Zebba Whitsen: At the pancake breakfast There are still a few bites left My stomach lets me know when I've had enough Time Spent Meandering Throughout The Galaxy Professor Obrioutte: Spiders in a sling Monarchs without a king A subpoenaed wild permissive fling Cattle on a string Maestros going to cringe Outsides what will bring The StarFlower: Peacock feathers manifest Jeckels jovially jest The sleep police to the caffeine people do arrest Parsven Undertoad: Do you want to eat pine trees in power lines? Do you want to go to the quick diners where supposed men dine? Do you want to go where pay phones and eighteen wheelers intertwine? Vetaisiax: In the mouth of the cavernous chasms The tow truck has mental spasms The wooded cabin cultivates a culture of related kin Practice the methods of warming food with tin Look carefully at the molecules under the lens Where the space explorers go to make sense Conceived Through Silhouettes Zebba Whitsen: Deluxe apartments are haunted Precarious poltergeists Insects blue in the ice tray Inner-city country house A mutant laundry mouse cuts the cheese With silverware it lifted from the local department store The StarFlower: On ancient walls, Inscribed by Mystics' scrawls: As a partial entity Going in A room, alone A white Skyline Tearing through The façade Until the copper gods Erase the dawn The Thickest Thicket Green in the Swamp Of Mars Vestaisiax: The color scheme of radiant beauties A small branch of life reaches thin loving blades The thickest thicket green in the swamp of Mars Zebba Whitsen: Her Green Eyelids Awake in me A space explorer's interest One Large Star The StarFlower: I started out A human being From a desolate planet I was fleeing Now I'm part Of one large star That holds the Universe together The balance Is forever being challenged Until another hero Puts down the coup And then the revolution starts anew For now there is Something I must do The Universe Has a Protégé The StarFlower: It is time to go away It is time to find another way They stammer For fear of the hammer To touch on them, the villagers By the lady giant Giantess She would not stomp on The birth certificate of a Venus flytrap Indigenous landmarks Beady eyes comprise Nonchalant, they haunt If while attempting to count The hairs on your head You were to find Spiders nesting hydras And if while attempting to build Anthills Instead of dogs We were attracted To the fire hydrants Is There Space? Zebba Whitsen: Things came to life Heralded through unseen forces Not knowing, not knowing It's an inner uncertainty Then I knew, by the vast explosion Then I knew the universe had cracked up and it was broken What could it all mean? Does space fit in my scheme? Such strange sultry beings Space was mine for that evening Is there space? Enough for me Set aside some constellation whatever it may be If I can't have what I want here I'll take what I can get there I'll go away Leaving scaled fish behind O I'll see how the sun will shine At daybreak when in my spaceship I'm climbing the sky Wildlife Garden The StarFlower: Birds swarming like a locust-tornado Flying around garden-writ thoughts of Plato Nope, the fiddler was not kidding When he wrote the ditty For all the pretty felines Being fond of the fawns who consider standing upright a vocation Knowledge Lions The StarFlower: Time is the way We acknowledge Knowledge lions Lollygag Brutus: Slightly scoffed a gravity shoe Zebba Whitsen: With hair fish polluting the Gulf Stream I dive right in To the Mediterranean Sea Hair Dance Sally Astronomicle: Are you entertained by having twenty hairs on your pedestal? I hope they dance around in a circle of joy We can watch the flight of the silver-haired bat I am overwhelmed with joy For the latest incarnation Of symbolic space rangers |
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