Night Spell

I never deny the virgin bride/even when its the Vestal Virgin/though crosses now dominate/my line of vision./Crosses, made from mother of pearl,/once sentient, aghast at Sodom/I’m forced to listen to archangels ramble./The voided sky above me/suits every occasion,/you see it outside,/ by the headlight’s glow/where they stand around and chatter,/on the lawns of the institution./Later on, it flashes on the dream screen,/ the torch is finally snuffed/at the gates to Psychosis Valley./Then the Screen Gems lady, test pattern/on the dream screen/ ushers in daylight./It’s Ok, that I am trying Bedlam drugs,/they’ve ran the gamut, tried it all,/I’m still the same /as when I entered.

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