Tuesday, September 27, 2005

let me out

I told somebody everything.


Now what?


Thursday, September 01, 2005

Pisces--(3/4 time)

Dreams die--slip and slide into critical mass: The Sinkhole Wide: The past: The joke of life. A waste of time wondering why.

And I,
The fool--the fish--
The cruel wishes of this "cold clay clod" that used to by my . . .

Dark hands reprimand. Blisters and calluses work the land. Fallacies cannot defend--and nothing ever ends

So send in the fool--the fish
Whose cruel wishes to satisfy NEED
Where the seeds of bitterness.

Sleep around--the clock's sound: ticking and sticking and filtering down to the lowest ground: be found--and stop smiling upside down.

I drown: the fool--the fish,
Whose cruel wishes entangled hope
And suffering so.


Again--my friend--a night, sick with jaded ecstasy, wrapped me in cellophane and shiver: COME HOME WITH ME . . .

Please no.

Too much--too soon--under the light of a digital dashboard moon--Hours of hyperactive stasis caressed by thrill through the veins, of a shiver of skin, or the tip of a tongue.
Come home with me, please.


So what? If clouds disperse and stars collide for the pleasure of reflecting in your perfect skin--so what if you're so good? and I am innocent. . .

We'll never know.