17 Jan 2008

the curling brew

She wore a pelican for a hat
The feathers lined her face.
She shoped for clothes in old arcades
Where women dress in scales.
And every future she had seen
All look like bottle green.
Despite the fact that time itself
Hides in corners full of shade.
Her son she named as Milo
For his father was a Duke
Their honeymoon they spent
Lying besides a pale lagoon.
Where courtesans and pilgrims went
To hide from kingly priests
Who forever search for messiahs
To lead them all from grief.
But all they find and every time
Are princeling sons and thieves.
So she left the kingdom far behind
To search again for love
But all that she ever found
Were messages from her gods.
So upon a cavalcade of bikes
She drove down to the sea
And there she drowned her sins
And cursed the tide that retreats.
And there she drowned herself
Beneath tides that time neglects.


Inconsequential said...

Where women dress in scales.

And cursed the tide that retreats.

Groovy Pic too :)

Aaron Held said...

yeah that picture is sweet