Medusa In Abstract

These laughing gas hoses and permed fields of razored yellow, the sun whistling in cold and the thousand painters it takes to stain a pure piece of guillotine glass driven in the whistling, coiled silver of her coal eyes. The cracks on her face will canvas an oil abstract and when removed reveal at the compartments of a rubix cube, the compartments glass, colorless and not plastic, the eyes crossing in atom spills, rooms of candelabras burning in a hushed vertigo, the curtains spinning ministries of nature’s paneled WELCOME signs, occult sigils, the mice in drizzling gazebos, a sideshow in the spectacle of each indigo ring. A hush is heard in constancy over the eye, which is a firefly breaking in perpetuity like a mood ring, or the smeared egg yolk abstract in a midnight carnival’s interior castle, that hush in torn tiremarks, the nude and skinned eyes crossing in perpetuity, the dilated rooms of fantasia, the seaweed strangler, the heads turning in barrels filled with founts.