What Fire Does For Floors

We start with danger, dark,
On disappearing wings;
Fashion a lasting passion for
What sweet Nepenthe brings,
Listen to a liar tell her thief
Malade had sex with kings.
Stones clothed in birds
Wearing heroin. I know
My mother and I were
Soldiers once fucking a ghost.
I shit in tin doss house revels.
Where I have an extra hour
I'll hallow too all such
Special evenings' perils.
Hell's cattle follow Faith,
"Like a pimp with no face."
Though I don't romance this Fate
Fearing through thorough Thought-
He who still can take a mistress
Fatal though that she brought there
Endorse her favorite father's failures,
Blessedness best served severe.
Would we likely call on great novellas
Few in person, far in plumes?
Trust me, phantoms do no work.
Truth scolds itself in time.
Puts paw through cage
Town by town to strangers,
Walks wrong slow writer
By our so-called side.
Interior horror
Fear in fact
Free of fiction.
Composed himself,
He cries to turn the tide.

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Geoffrey Cruickshank-Hagenbuckle