a headache in a jar

One floating head,
circling and circling,
not in a widening gyre,
though.

one floating head,
two crystal skulls,
reaching the highwater mark,
then being hurled back.

one floating head,
ten underwater volcanic eruptions,
two crystal skulls,
when the Seas drank Atlantis,
then complained about the hangover.

it’s the end of the world as we know it,

but not the end of the world as we DON’T know it.

(one floating head,
two crystal skulls,
sixteen cloned Walts Disney,
a three-pronged trident, but no devils to wave it,
ten underwater volcanic eriptions,
when the Sun revolved around Stonehenge,
and cast a strange, twisting shadow,
which, if you chance to read Ancient Sumerian,
forms pictograms for

“Pluto’s still a Planet, dammit.”

Eight pirate ships
seven Kraken,
six ship’s graveyards,
five billion ghosts,
and a partridge
speaking hideous words
never meant for mortal lips,
in a pear tree

(but NEVER TRUST THE PEARS!)

A thousand trees,
making up a dark dark forest,
in a dark, dark time,
for the Jersey Devil
to make love
to Mothman;

let’s get weird, friends,
let’s get weird.

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