All Was At Odds With An Evening At Io's

The Mouth Of The World Is Gnashing Its Teeth,
Questioning Former Mountain Gods And Their Animal Scientists,
It Licks At The Partitions BeTwixt Nimbostratus And Nebulae For Falling Stars To Lactate Nocticulent,
Crying Nacreous Trails For Those Of Sacred Tails To Tuck Underneath...
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Woe To Those Who Sniff At The Earth In An UnDieing Dedicateion To AWaken Chronos,
To Beg And Suture FaultLines While Stealing From A Charitable Testicle,
As Io Rides A Quicker Fuck Than Allowed By Temple-Whore Standards,
To Begin Man's Future SaltLess With Stallions For Chariots... Detesting The SubCulture,
Grinding At The Bit... Polarity... With Her Learned Instruction For Guideing And Rotateing...
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The Mouth Of The World Now Roars As Lions... It Stomps With Its Molars To Shift LifeTimes,
PactLess And Perforated As It Seethes For Islands To Rise From Under The Oceans...
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Bathers In The Melting Firmament... Dinosaurs Dressed In The Midas Touch,
Even As Blackened Hands Have Hammered UpOn Anvils For Helmets To Cover What Wax Could Not,
The Tongue Steals NoThing That The Beatened Pathos Can Stall From ItSelf,
To InStill A Desire InTo The Crux Of Matter...
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To UnDesire Revolution And UnRotate The Dreams Of Serpents From The WatchFull Orbits Above;
But What If... By Some Stranger Sting Of Circumstance... She Chooses Her Man From No Such Origins...?
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To Break The World... And Make It Froth At Her Feet?