Tuesday, November 15, 2011

fuck the weird and give us a kiss.

sometimes stardust needs to be scattered.

don't fret,
you'll(only) miss my city saunter.
lawd knows how you love the sway
and the pollution and
the sweet sweat

i got out specially.
‘tits been so long-
so long darlin', that i had to cut my hair.


always waiting.


or around the way.
wait on waiting.
meditate on motion.
no number.
no next on line.

useless and useful are nothing more than a game of letters

a correspondence consisting
of nothing
wondering and wandering?
this past fossil of us
frozen in fuscia ink

As distant as a faded Polaroid.

If you'd ever
find the time to prowl around
i've got things to show an eager mind
wrapped in the civil intercourse of discourse
without discord.
turn left,
then right,
and left again,
until the garden beckons and the words come to life
and fall upon you like a brick,
and curves in the road at a right angle are still magical.

the despised coaster is rattling on its tracks;
I've been given fair notice by the ticket taker.
soon the "all aboard " announcement will sound.
my sense and stability have been packed in a carpet bag and preemptively stored.
i've no other option than to climb aboard;

love, to you.
now heard unspoken
like a groove without a needle
skipping the time in-between

a sunrise
is not the only thing that relies on vermillion armor;
our overture, a gang of sustained anxious strings
frayed, without breaking.

The sister of Time,
(I have been)
the glue that binds
(a destiny unfulfilled in a melody)
fractions upon fractions,

I am bound.