10 minute sonnet 011, 05-27-2016 "get the hill?"

A wet along the crystal beam sweet sleep
her sleeping eyes a bashful heart of lull
to which my monstrosities dare to seep
to the bleeding sky, sublimation call,

possibilities linger, dreams afloat,
but disregard not one ounce
of effort lest your sleep be a garrote
to confidence, your style. Methods bounce

off you, the smartest non-caloric shake
stutters with a mumble. "Fuck off,"
"For heaven's sake" said the priest. Heaven's sake?
and what of mine? more sacred is my cough

than your feeling offended. I am full
of obstrocities, new blurbs, get the hill?