Monday, June 8, 2009

i used to pride myself on spontaneity. Walking the unknown return.

open the fire gates and watch me walk. edge the cliff, flirt with the abyss.

twinkle under the skirt of the precipice.

let Dionysus dance in the corona of moons stuck in our eyes, hungry

without dogma, on a scent with blind faith

chase the glint of brilliance on the horizon.

feverish, hunting out in the frosty night,

chasing smoke into neon liquid nights with cider and pills

innocence/experience scale the hour glass,

flux thru the streets without face or watch

feeling like Ginsburg or Burroughs with my boy at my side

a slap of wind takes your breath away…

i knew i was blind – i could see it coming…

talk of body – star fish breasts

i have 10 fingers and 10 toes and 2 eyes and 1 cunt.

talk of mind – cocaine mornings black and broken and star shattered

stoner dog, where are my Kings men?

my trouble is not words but with the conjunctive – let logic out of air vents and put

all hope in words

china blue dawn breaks, charged with light unfolding…

left side of brain speaks – the days structure has been ruptured. fix up. turn off. pull it together

right side of brain speaks – the birth of the day is violet grey and i bask in her shredded amniotic rays all distant and yonder. stay safe and hidden behind

doors and windows and sheets. take a break thru high noon and slip between the sun and moon.

dwell a thought before it flies

play string orchestras

body and mind lovers.

love making in all the homes along

all the streets in all the minds and all the bodies -

isn’t that what we are supposed to be doing?

people locked in their tower


with vision screens and busy finger


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