endymion jones

the moon in transit van morrison escapes the orbit club in miami france

brave headed the swan i was to become

my axe which have serveth me fine and lonely-sharp

the sentinel upon yonder hill has fed all day on chlorophyl

this great charge of mind persuades almost everyone sooner

a solar contusion exfoliated star space has peeled back

we stand on the inner threshold to choose or reject deleria

voices may be heard filled with sweet temptations

oh who could resist those promises

mozart maybe can still save me oh boy i bet hes glad i’m not bach

i pretend im not deaf  a homeless soldier for tune for hire

i wander in 18th century austria in my bondi board shorts

you fucking freak says liszt all them groupies are mine

hang on hang on boys says billy debussy theres enough public domain for all of us

hes right says strindberg smoking a big hit of angelfruit

hey youre no composer… ! says jean paul sartre in his silly accent

watch your step frenchie…bellows big dick wagner the german opera geezer

guys guys guys im saying help me here

i’m doing this thing called rocknroll its from the frickin’ future…

ah…the future….says ludde beethoven sadly

get with it man ! says  a voice  its marc chagall calling in on his blackberry

the graininess on the photo makes it look like some dusky florence in arabia

my image thus captured i make myself sick on white and honeycomb

stay tuned

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