From: williamgwilliams@gmail.com   
      
   On Tuesday, September 7, 2021 at 3:10:47 AM UTC-4, Rachel wrote:   
   > The Hysterical Bride    
   >    
   > Metallic Pinballs, Sharp and Shiny,    
   > were First-Fisted, locked in,    
   > Coiled Springs laying in wait    
   > for a driven Tail Spin;    
   >    
   > Pulled Back, then shot out,    
   > like a Bumper Car ride,    
   > Darting madly across    
   > the Spread-Eagled Sky −    
   >    
   > Destiny reigned down    
   > her Torrent Complete,    
   > door slamming,    
   > the Pounding of bare-naked Feet −    
   >    
   > Primordial Bolts, from the Power    
   > of Hammerings,    
   > Startled, the deer,    
   > these Thunderous Clamorings.    
   >    
   > the Devil opened his door    
   > to Light up the route,    
   > Leaving Directions in there,    
   > They mapped it all out;    
   >    
   > Our concocted Potion    
   > of a Best of Luck Chain,    
   > Soldered together    
   > with gold Silver Rain −    
   >    
   > Meet Ma’s Modern-Day,    
   > Midwestern,    
   > ‘Lectric Lightnin’ Loops,    
   > The ceremonial conjoining    
   > of a new Chicken Coop −    
   >    
   > See our Rough, Rowdy Roller-Coaster    
   > Masters at War,    
   > delight in the Plight    
   > of these Sisyphus whores;    
   >    
   > Trapped on a Ping-Pong    
   > back and forth journey −    
   > With a cry and a moan    
   > Begins their Bipolar Tragedy.    
   >    
   > We’re passing out tickets,    
   > across the Great Divide    
   > a new revolution,    
   > with God on Our Side −    
   >    
   > a Royal inborn    
   > freshwater Splash,    
   > their ancient Spiny White River    
   > is Tapped:    
   >    
   > Released it goes Streaming    
   > through the air waves of Sages,    
   > Tearing over chiseled Red Rocks,    
   > it Ravages, Rages.    
   >    
   > Through narrowing Caverns it Echoes,    
   > It pleads and It screams:    
   >    
   > Count    
   > the Ticking of Clocks...    
   > Watch    
   > the karma of Dreams −    
   >    
   > They Crashed all Contorted    
   > into our own Lake of Fire,    
   > Twisted and Blistering,    
   > reporting, “Shut up, Don’t cry!”    
   >    
   > The Battle Call rang out,    
   > remembered,    
   > A splattering refrain    
   > The exquisite Luxury of Boredom,    
   > Tedious, and Plain −    
   >    
   > Haunted and cut-up,    
   > By her own harrowing Snake Hues:    
   > The lost diamond ring    
   > of our Dauphin in blue.    
   >    
   > An empty chasm of Amusement    
   > for a Stately Royal few    
   > Just another fucked-up Deranged    
   > Schizophrenic Jew −    
   >    
   > No choice left, nothing to Do    
   > But to Sing;    
   > A Perfectly Executed    
   > Cult murder Sting.    
   >    
   > Ẅ   
      
   A most excellent poem. I think "Chimes of Freedom" came a-visiting for parts   
   of it. Also, weirdly, "Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite" (in your lines that   
   start with "Meet," "See," and my favorites:   
      
      Count    
      the Ticking of Clocks...    
      Watch    
      the karma of Dreams −    
      
   And the Beatles might have crept in again in the the "No choice left, nothing   
   to Do" lines, from "Good Morning Good Morning":   
      
      Nothing to do to save his life, call his wife in   
      Nothing to say but what a day, how's your boy been   
      Nothing to do it's up to you,   
      I've got nothing to say but it's OK    
      
   Glad to see the juices are flowing.   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)