Pity Hills & Wrecking Balls

While skinny feet click down the steps,
bolts and boxes clear the mist.
Please endure the burning sun,
as bells break into hiss.

Gloved hands fill a glass syringe
anxious like a wrecking ball.
Please ignore the untrimmed nails,
and hum supernova to the wall…

Pity hills make lousy cooks;
seeds won’t sprout from horse hair.
Please excuse the canvas tarp;
hope as misery’s au pair.

If red carpet fades to midnight,
then capricorn mice may bleed the well.
Please insure eternal bliss;
break bold fingers out of jail.

Tentacles bare the coral fruit
of corpses from a subterranean war.
Please endure the leaky vein:
steel cold locks the door.

Time to break in weak champaign;
an idle rose molests the view.
Please ignore the rusty clef,
and wilt the forecasts of perfume.

Routine maintenance won’t cure the cough,
so pick a key to conjure stars.
Please excuse the silent film;
our audience swoons for scars.

Broken wheels beep out black morse code
in the smoke of bagpipe sashes.
Please insure the evil mistress:
the rain deserves her batting lashes.