a dream in dada  (gaumless spontaneous!)

 
depression sacks the thoughts  
sunk like feathers bound in rock
in the underwater war for the
head the heart was lost
here and her on last firstly,  
who Niamh daughter  
of the unclear tears recalls truely.
& here Culainn flies thru  
in numberless forms from forlorn radiance above/below
and so to meet with Ban and I and enchanted in the hands of Fand together
we LA LA Golden Land of  laughter Later moreover tears  
for the moment in the jungle of dream-scrapes & drifting  
cold in the moss or grass as cod O God  
O hand of nil intent  
& queen of fairies & pearl of my tear O  
i will not comprehend (understand?) life being  
a spiral threaded hand-grenade and spinning  
in a vortex and savage near pointless  
to even walk it thru  
& like tobacco blue smoke white pink
i miss the feeling and the need as well  
to up & get up again