Dalinianium – Albert

there were dalinianiums for to do.

but do not.

do not want nor do not.

dalinianium.

to do is do.

it is the key.   

       a poem by albert jones’z literary power hour

i call ballshut, the once, the twonce, the more ever sort of see, but, you know the distance, the ever lost and the never seen and when the world is a world of world’s inside worlds then your world, that one, will cease to be and we all fall down O nine miles to the flaming sea and poke our heads up and look around, there must have been some sort of mistake, but no, they are up there whisping away, shrinking in their ever visage of you, having fallen and not yet even havven gotten up. a victim to the tumultous reddened sea of fireball and lightnings having been contained. You turn and upon the hill is Pandemonium and the howls fly out of tortured souls, winged now, the only respite from the heat, O, for then you to be such a victim and not take up wings of your own nears the impossible until momentarily, only later after the shock and the horror have warn up, you fly into the sky another demon not knowing what to do.