What's Your Cosine?

A Puck/Calypso Contemplation

And a one-y-and-a-two-y and a then you look right through me
standing waves of higher consonance cascade
through lacy dissonance
sonic interference forms vibrational coherent modes
of thought, 
actions, appearance, 
all the sonar scars of hearin' the harmonious licentiousnes
constructively disturbing us, from the plane of the ecliptic
revolver rounds, the two of us;

they're formin' an ellipse
me and the eclipse
gonna lean in for a kiss
magick drippin' from her lips

Got the story all backwards
a frog from that princess;
bufotenin-crested
sin aesthetic

acid-electric, honeyed-eclectic, 
chewin' floor-essence
always broadcastin' their forever never-go-to-bed
presents, tryptamine-laced
Ace-of-spaced;
Technique-coloured sonar spates

[ locked-in grooves bound to her hips
that sorceress flickers and drips as she dips]

Luna phrasin'
trip in phase with
telescopic lenses arrayed.

Iris open the Doors of Perception;
       or tunnel us under the grates;
I disappearing
when we can't see our faces
we'll find ourselves  
vapor.

Bid bon voyage to us bon vivant clairvoyants 
trippin the rifters and raptors of revelation 
spacin'
on this fine ol' occasion for spry sonic creamin'
can't hold at-all-back, lunatic-gleamin'
wry, naughty dreamer's grin

this lunar invasion seams unseemly
the heavens sing their spatial hymns, dreamily, 
to our all-original sins;
Sine right here and invite them in

at wit's end? 
unlikely ;)
discovery excites me
i might be addicted,
but i'm not conflicted;
No, I'm Hooked.

knees swish, swash-bucklin' free, will cavin' in, too
sloshin' at Jaws with those Pirate Bay tunes on pressed gold doubloons
precious booties attuned; bounce in discrete entanglement,
Continuous or not, we'll crack this old nut
we willingly choose to walk the Planck-length of the inner sanctum.
Tonight, we feed on plankton
who know what is what
and we just don't give a fuck
watts from fox
we're just struts, cause we glowin'
at peace in a crowd; and it's showin', holdin' 
everythin' up, we're pleased and in pieces
bending at the knees with low frequencies 
and fish 
in the seize, beseiged, 
surrounded by elation
alone in inner-spaces        
Elysium, in your fields

[won't be caught dead; bird-brained, cluckin'
legions of lesionnaire's leavin' behind their leper-conned luck
Valhalla calls, that low-key suckin' ]

upon our invocations
Time will cease it's chaste allegiance
take its last, spartan stand innovation
     against the void of empty space
on this final occasion
and bow to our
vibrational sympathogen supra-nation
locked in-groove triangulations
we cocooned in
wombs of woven tunes
metamorphose after takin' 
hits of trojan truth
envenomed, by Imagination's
delimited continuation
Creation: Be Cause;

You arrrrrre 
endless
formed most beautiful from the structured interference of
hollow graphic all-up-here in
the stand in waves of creation 'n annihilation
coherently ink 
o'erhear and decohere
into entangled vibrational modes of subdivided
space'n looped into a quantum spin foam, gravity's rainbow emergence lacin'
inner-vacations 
chained to the rhythm, out there chasin' 
they're always crazed for
splintered cross-eyed dot-teed inner visions
chompin' at the bits, hittin' ignition
with their depolarizational sinterin' vibration-all
the empty excitation-inhibition forms
of creatively destructive exhibition
-ism

spinal-tappin' the mind prism
 
three letters to name the umbelical cord
of our metaphoric meta-euphoric
corridor to our inner god-essence 

incensed hints, chaste nonsense

the spirit molecule's what the bass mints, 
apotheosis; spinal-tap in xenolinguistics
since it's turtles all the way down to the bottom of existence
recursively re-spawned with whiffs of undiluted hymn-scent mystics;

Just how far up are ya?
What's your cosine distance?

-Signed, Sincerely, 
Dr. Ellis Dilaudid
Self-sintered Professor of Xenolinguistics