Tin-Can Cosmic,
Swing-AWay And Peel Back,
A Step Out Of Time To Kick It Empty,
Down The Corridor… To Its Ricochet,
Flip It Negative InTo The Air,
The White Room… Now A Black Room,
Now No Piano… Only The Horns,
No Whispering… No Talking… Only A Sound Of Elastic Distance,
No Going Back To Pick Up Where Space Left Its Mark,
Now Standing… One Hand… Holding Its Collapse,
Eyes Craveing For Corners…
…
No Corners… Now All Is Curved,
The Bend Around The End…
…
Corners Craveing For Eyes…
One Handing… Now It Stands… Collapseing Its Hold,
Back Where No Space Is Left To Mark Its Going,
No Whispering… No Talking… Only A Distance,
Now No Keys… Only A Pitch,
The Black Room… Now A Red Room,
Flip It Negative InTo The Air,
Drown The Ricochet… To Its Horrid Door,
Kick It Open To Step InTo Frame,
Swing-Back And Peel AWay,
Answer No Thing.
More at http://rwkt.blogspot.ca/2014/09/the-orange-lounge.html.