Odin

(about "doublespeaker rhyme": line in regular text
and line in italics directly beneath it are sung
simultaneously, each panned hard to one speaker)


Mr. Odin died today.

Lights off, from your hiding place of retreat emerged.
By lot, once more trifling tref must reseed the earth.
This fridge's gallery in web's wake was strewn,
Indifferent galaxies instead stay unmoved;
silent poll of colours overused.
sigh and pull the covers over you.
This latest piece you drew with crayons least whittled...
In safest sleep, you ruminate on these riddles...

The house settled in sheets, you swing the iron screen.
But how dreadful indeed, do sweet dream's ichors seem!
By the alabaster balustrade,
Like a salamander shall await
baby steps inch towards crevice rays.
trading breath's bliss for present bane.

Then down stygian stairs,
And how stingy and scarce
through sickle-lit oriental streets.
proves shibboleth for these gentle means!
Raccoons rummage round some rubbish bags,
As you plummet down from couplets past;
till a rickshaw hiccoughs from grating cracks.
still, but missed bat mitzvahs come racing back.
You seek the dunes once deemed a haven
To dreams of whom does each one cave in
that was safe for a heathen...
as a slave for the seasons?

And if flutters with the fairest
And if summer trips to Paris
were just sins simply dreamt,
weren't just myths between friends,
could some bottled butterfly dream your whims instead?
would the rondel of her eye be stored in this neck?
What's more, if all you live for still die at the end--
But cored gifts fall to discord till lives acquiesce,
like Odin's ashes back from the Society,
by opened latches that come undone by undine--
which filled a chasm dug up underneath--
which spilled a basket among other things--
can that which kills a cat spare his home if spread?
a casket tilted back where its hopeless rests.

You researched a gleam
Your seizures of spleen,
to be a guard's whistle at your feet,
you see the jarred sibyl had foreseen
and brought your raft behind the yellow-taped grills
as not for wrapping by a cellophane sylph,
to stand onshore keen to drift if shark swarms withheld.
who cannot warm he who didn't impart warmth himself.

Buoy bobs through sea serpents,
Coin toss to be hers from
shivering for shivs unsheathed.
shivaree towards shivah seat
As roller coasters of waves comfort sighs,
has pulled your floater away from your sight.
you frame silhouettes of torn rides
You chase till dew sheds from your eyes
in your dim, lingering gaze,
with your beleaguered remains,
a victim of erosion.
amidst dustbunnies frozen.

Should you hide, or could you fight,
when your day to die has come?
Can a holed up hostage
pray for soulless solace and just play dumb?

But in time, wouldn't you find life is simply much too long?

But for a foetus force-fed, born preaborted,
Yet your defeat of tortoise, forced lead unthwarted,
your ouija board said, "Son, just hum along."
sworn feat aforesaid, doesn't come anon.

Though, no slave parts these seas,
Though, no grey starling's beak
then returns them as a buffer zone.
can reach urchins smashed from undertows.
The sudsy ocean shapes its padded bed,
But suddenly Odin's day is at its end;
which hitherto snubbed and spurned a wreck,
his litter to dust and earth was swept,
while mermaids smile past a guileless garden gnome...
while Thursday's child has a mile less far to go...

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