Of course, if U live in a Glass House U shouldn't throw
stones but eye am a Saint-Virgin Fysche
& The Glass House is deceptive...a hall of dirty mirrors...U
think U can C in but all U C is a reflection of your own
projection and B hide the facade as well:
sham pain wishes & caveat dreams.

4 the last 9 years Fysche has been dreaming of
living in the Glass House and when Fysche finally finally
finally gets 2 the front door (after 9! years of the video
game haze and maze) a huge ogre guards the moat, and the
prince is hapless...can't throw the maiden a single line...2
much drama in the castle & not the right kind.

Fysche leaves undaunted, D termined...some day her prince will come and come & come in a powerful wave of coregasm Instead Falling from the magickal guarden ~ what have we here?! A sweet tantalizing fruit. "What is this?" Fysche asks Itself...the timing of the juicy berry uncanny. The berry holds all the secrets of the Glass Menagerie and like a resplendent lotus opens up and pours 4th its iridescent intoxicating elixir; an orgiastic blend of mysteries, spells, incantantions, prophecies, exultations, atrocities, and the broken-hearted Siren's wail tearstained underneath ... [last 2 words R B.C.'s again] Fysche is flabbergasted. And confused. Suddenly the prince no longer seems like the objet' desire. Fysche got bonked on the head by a giant friggin' Starberry Siren. Fysche is a lotus eater. Dessert!

              Image: Fysche
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Fysche's life is performance art.

More Fysche:

The Reel Whirled November, 2002