When the time is right it will come lathering bubbles, effervescence, foam and spume some people call it a fantastic garden knocking at the gate yet in their shame they have been taught to be shy forever finding a reason to be miraculous inside but one day the bottom will surely fall out, sparkling fish, lonesome stars wandering in the night still the blackest rays have been soaring upon the pitch, whirling, whorling as a corkscrew, cochlear, helix, convoluted right But it is the sadness that has the potential to turn up the smoke, crank out the heat, Upon wild waves of insolent fury that might do their best to release the vim and vinegar, the force that is buried deep within, they will tell their tale matching wits with anyone who may have the audacity to meet their match, cold incessant tremor in a repressed state of mind, flailing limbs flowing hands expressing their needs in a most inconsequential way for it is quite remarkable you must come to admit, But then again there might be other ways to interpret the nature of the event, It happens all too often with a rundown dilapidated skiff, bumbling and battered with vacant howls mumbling to the wind, This is so the sea shall shout in its loneliness and despair, red nails dangling in the water, tropical wind fronts settling in the air for the schooner shall find the proper vision, mirage, chimera, specter and wraith horny clowns remembering what had once been thought to be great But the real image is rarely stored alone, it comes out in husks and chaff stripped down, chortled about, spit-out sadly thrown away, But you must admit that the taste can sometimes be repulsively dour, texture as a running egg white in the breakfast of your dreams so let it ebb in a pearly apparition coming with blueberry jam, pleasant rye on the darkest date in the shrine, So pull up the robe bring down the vestments in a terrible secret that everybody seems to know as there has always been corruption in the chapel, spiders in the belfry, sacred cats in the monuments and cupboards all of it mountainous, some of it vague, But don't you see It can become decipherable on inclement days around the pope beyond the rave for there are great apostles in unsavory deeds, standing, shaking, just waiting to be had.