Apocalypse Fantasia
Presents...
'The World is A Fountain' . . .
__________________________ ________________________________________________ ___________________________ Recorded by Clair and Hannah:

Not opal coated, not ruby coated nor with beige ceramics -------------------------------------------
The apocalypse of everything from the smallest small to the entirety of Fantasia; from the ----
quarrelling couple to the unity of opposites - a vestige, a remnant, a fountain. -------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------------------
Death of the smallest thing, death and undeath and life and unlife for the thing which we have
burrowed under and shrouded beneath - hidden within and cowered behind. A total apocalypse.
------------------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------------------
The apocalypse which ravages and renders, which tears the muscles and stretches the limbs,
upturns the foundations with flame and blood and gouges the eyes with righteous tears; on the
apocalypse of upturned soil and tender muscle sits a fountain so elegant and proud for it is not
from the present. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------------------------------------------------------------ ----------------------------------------
Dry bowls for what? As vestiges of the infrastructure of our lives, they pour and shower not a
single drop of water into these pale pails and empty pipes. Irrelevant in apocalypse while -----
all-encompassing, all-consuming and prodded with weary eyes and affected souls. -------------
------------------------- ------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------------
Dry bowls for what? Smash the urns and burn the temple, throw the long chained hook into the
rib and drag behind the windsail. Destroy and reciprocate, with dejection the cry and scream -
become the scream and swig. Destroy as have been destroyed, be it pumping sacs or fleeing folks.
------------------------- ------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------------
They and we roam with pain, pain to flee pain as hands grasp the bars of speeding crafts and -
the brace of wind shaves the seconds away. The fiercest knuckle fumbles to the painful -------
recognition that this reaction to apocalypse carries its noxious ingredients to be spilled again on
the fertile and living. ------------------------- ------------------------------------ ------------------------
------------------------- ------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------------
From the rot, humus and fiber of death comes the muck which feeds the sprouts of wheat that
poke at the boots, the tufts of grain which grow when life reemerges from its sibling. When --
normal nature fills the wound with blood and forms the scab for those willing to let it dry.

Not opal coated, not ruby coated nor with beige ceramics
The fountain left empty and useless inspires the awe of many, to mystify the impotent symbol of
times gone apocalypsed. To emphasise the texture of a new Fantasia.