On His rail road track built by the hands of prophets On His back-up right hand for policy makers and sorcery On His feet tapping distortion to standing pillars On His red coat pocket washed on marble with lye On His bird seed for feebleness and futility On His volunteer work for unwritten melodies On His mortar and eggplant purples in pressure cookers On His ocean blue drenched in Yule flowers and autumn memories On His essences that sound out in wind chimes On His lamenting in October in sure-footed sandals On His pencil and paint sprinkles for pillow cases On His stethoscope stopping the heartbeats of rattlers On His punch bowl with turpentine and turtles On His complementary magenta fur coat and black hat On His nauseous nectar in nectarines On His voice inching to the toilet bowl and window vase
