dIOrama of a Magical reigndeer's Broadcast

A/N: Don't worry about the capitalization and weird expressions you see. That's all they are. They are there to emphasize and paint the picture. Like when people sing, comparatively. Friend, I'm ready Now. I can't believe you picked me.

Enveloped by a diagrammatic Winter’s Eve

The snowflakes in the dark seem to hate me

The porchlights abhor my every circuit with seeming derision

Everybody has left their car motionless, and I hark on each one

What is it worth but just transport

It’s partially a social statement. I come to think Their happiness fooly depends

On several things drifting out to the Sea of Variables; & certain loss is VOwed to ye

It’s obvious Doing what’s right will not spare anyone misfortune

For every day we do something that is not right

Eventually my percolation mushes non+plus~ss into their houses, Their great

Scaffolds of Fortresses

Make me think of ant-HIllS. And their skein of wards that breathe & rake over its heaps

like Protective Dragons, necks cOILED around the spouse, kiddos, dog, suit, computer

LiGHt BUlb, toothbrush, sink, stereo speakers, favorite sneakers: - - -

Heavy hearts, like every drop in a cloud of possessions you Take To

Shield yourself with,

are best relieved by the letting of a little water

an unEducated, UNcultured weatherman Magnifies a voice amidst the wedge of Cake

Stepping down from heaven

And as Loud as he Fore-casts the Way some Colossal White Blade coats the Villages

He too often departs unheard

So that the True colors of the pastry are Washed out, & overshadowed By

dainty candles in frailty-frosted, window-slitted crash Pads

Empty Rationale remains because they don’t Rack Their Brains day by day like a Detective

Bury much Emotional build-up behind the cork of bottle Tops & take it out on

the Holidays by refreshing the spirit

Come to settle into the Paternal pleas 15 year-late recommendation now that they’re 30

because it’s too astringent to gaze into The Flames of the Sun which is Demanded

for actually having the knowledge & Reason to be a rebel. Not to sOw wilD oats & B

Frivol, frivel, frivolous..

Egregious Crackdown plows into The bitterness of regretful lives of every Neighborhood

How this Weatherman’s Witnessed so many answers, OH,,, the HeartBRake `

Their needless grief UpBraids!

the ice sculptures that bring my Perfect Peace

And it Sears Through every wingbeat Attached to my shoulder-Blades-`~<_~=.>_<”~~

3 out of 4 dreams a Whirlwind of Crows, while my Steady Home is hooked to the SUN

shine where my Wings have come from.

there is something beautiful about all scares of whatever nature:

They, passing by your eyes, rip blood-plugs all over you

but A scar means the hurt is over, the wound is closed, and Healing has taken over.

do not focus on where you Fell

Focus

on

Why it is you were made to be tripped-Up;

Espy if weather where you really stand

is unequi-Vocally unshakaBLE Ground.

The only souls that know no more war are the Dead, you say

And that seems pretty judicious. And the Dead also know how those that strive to feel Alive

can’t break out

And cast off the Dead-End full of -eroded bombsheLls stikcing out of the Pav'em=a`Net

Elbows’ Strength joust it out with the hopeful refused corpses of Black Friday

I take a charter like a Magical Reindeer through the television

And I sit and bawl underneath the ½%-off signs that suffice to DOUBLE the FuroR

Pinned between childhood’s instinctive chivalrousness

That the world never could put in your Stock because you had some glaring weakness

That defect that you threw out, but through the glass of a Christmas corner-shop never left

the environment peaceful enough where it could decompose; But here’s a Chance

As you kiss Christmas with the vapor of you’re hunger clouds on the window-glass

There’s a hay manger making your fingers frozen to the giftbag

And if you’ll listen

That when I exchanged my demonic attitude of frenetic $Caco$phonie$

This allowed the stone that Scrooge plunked me with to rebound off

And disappear into a drift of God’s Velvet Village reindeer

I have only one grief, only one consternation in life:

That you might reject promises, neglect feelings, desert the heritage to contentment & peace

Among all MY relieving safaris that are rife with wayfaring & curious errands;

That you might discard eternal life

when you can believe it for the skylark of glee rustling beneath my countenance

He Reigns-deer he Reigns deep inside there, a cry so pristine

it uNnerves many who would consult it

But The very voice box it transplanted in me has been fed its living since I was 7 years old

And the first day it burst out of the brush & swOOped AWay with my world ~

~~it was Guardian alone: ~~

as He carried my cantankerous corpse crying out to be let back to dear natural life

All became clear

The suburb sat like an inner arena,

and as the more unoccupied regions changed, all the Manors & tudors magnified & upGRaded

“Earth-loving ones don’t make the Garden I have in mind,

I heard said above before behind & beneath me

For on the ground lewd-icrous abundance of sewers

are fetching to the eye`,

but ruminating upon the axis & objective of My Aerial LaserBeacon of an eye

perpetual Commonwealths operate like gems studded in billowing hills,”

So I ri+coCheted an-die ScrEEd & my body reo!rganized & I sproutedWing$&wentAWOL!!