How can you expect a body to be healthy with its brains washed out? I blew them
out my nose and sent them up in smoke and then washed them away… candle wax
nights following music down windy streets
do now think later
5am philosophies in toilet cubicles feeling like a Pharaoh from London boroughs
to Miami royal palm with a broken compass without sense or syntax expectations
threaded together and lost beads and rain bouncing from the floor speckling a
thousand mind and feet routes with no clear trail ways.
keep the sun light under the door crack to illuminate the room –
I looked up and realized my soul mate aborted running running and running
and knowing, running and still in the eye of madness,
bewildered beasts, a wild woman
and she has headphones in her ears, drum and base and soul and strings
with no name to anything, no name, no labels, all out of boxes bare under
moon ripe as a grapefruit.
kaleidoscope focus on all a bunch of matter of no thing
wild; when all is as simple as an egg,
catch another plane – egg and crystal heart in pocket and hand
and head of memories of
you and me of you and me of you and me of you falling in and out of arms –
where the fuck did my feet go?
They run all over the place
Lasso the wind incarnadine. Bring back my feet
and thread me from the floor.
At least you always know where you are with the floor, it
will never let you down but sometimes it does trick you into believing you are a part
of the sky, weightless and competing with the clouds, but then you realize you are
on the floor and you need to pick yourself back up –
if only I had my feet,
and my broken compass tells me of the desert in his eyes and I want to jump back to
then so bad but something else calls to me and tells me maybe it’s not such a good idea.
He has the desert in his eyes
and he is too precious for you, wild woman with broken flowers and mirrors and
the stench of lipstick,
my teeth are too much,
he can no longer catch me, my soul mate went flying turned all violet gray, crumble
dim all colour,
I watched him sail away into violet gray
And I dispelled into night.
That’s when my feet fleeted. No time for old times, new times and
blank paper walls are the future.
No wild horses running away with the days,
the mad dogs of love from hell are here
again and I want to run with them into the desert
only a little voice tries to tell me something…I cannot hear it,
a vague reflection of faces animated.
My phones have betrayed me again with their silence. I
tell it to Fuck Off Then,
just like I did my feet
and so they did, and I sat wondering
Where did i go? Or did they all leave?
Traffic lights, swinging disco balls, dogs, books,
all the things that make up the minds of the world…