Saturday, February 27, 2010

DOVES EAT LEMON PIES, FRONT_ROW

I'm not sure how to spend my time anymore,
if I can't spend it all weeping.
I think of the rages and joys
of all my life, and wonder simply
"what was that all about??".
I just burst out cackling wildly
in the middle of a foggy sentence
that I happened to be speaking,
trapped in jail.

Bees disrupt the color of my hands,
all radiance come down to spill my guts,
and a handle of burger to flourish
from the waist of my pine shadow.

A telephone pole of black light, tar dark
on its torso & antlers, reaching all its
ringing anti-ecstasy into the stretched tarps
of vast disembodied ear.

2 skulls that knock together
chin & bridge of nose
interlocking blades
surrounded by every
engine.
Weeping continues in the banks
as well as the alleyways.

CROWS GULP BLUEBERRIES
WHILE STANDING NECK_TIED
AT AN ARTIFICIAL SHORELINE.

1 comment:

LukeBuckham said...

Perhaps this is a great work of genius. I hope it's not contagious.