Welcome to Cerulean Nocturne, an experimental poetry blog. You will find manual writings of invented language here. Delve in and undergo a journey behind the oblique mask of formality. Discover brand new forms of poetry. Associate your own hidden meaning from these Rorschach texts. Dare to plumb the depths. (Awl poured seas sub decked to pain and coffee rights belong exhumed and free circa twenty fifteen to the Scribblenaught.) Winsome tale. Luzum mind.

March 2, 2005

DRUNKEN SONG




...There was A book A life A stolen wife
A seed A disease Some nectar
A crook a knife a stab of strife
You bleed from a slice in your neck, sir

You're hooked the knife was stain'd w/tripe
I believe you'll suffer infection
A rare malady where your flesh turns to cheese
and you no longer get an erection,

there was a book! A life!, etc.






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