Sep 7, 2010

Others were suppose to meet us at the Gathering Sidewalks

  • during slow time we
    strip billboards
    looking for clues
    the Welcome Ladies try selling trips
    not one human can afford.

    once M decided we should explore the L during daylight.
    there was a mean bimmer he wanted to steal. I thought he must be talking about a tank but
    then he explained
    that it was a small vehicle that could fly, could blend into
    clouds and hoover.
    like a black helicopter? sort of, but more of a flat spin.
    what will you give for it? ..a couple of the books.
     Books?! - not THE Books!
    maybe just the newer ones, they have no power.
    even when the reader is pulled in by the sound bites?
    don’t worry about it.
    but I was..
    I closed my eyes
    to drown between his lines
    greylight, hitting buildings like blood
    a blue sky paraphrased by slush, bits of scale
    circulating thru patches of black
    sinking deeper, the water a throat
    of eyelashes, of ink, torn flesh
    moonbitter scars that pop and bulge
    the taste of salt soundless
    words under words trying to touch
    pieces of heaven dotted
    with sky, soft as toes in the sand
    M and I try to sleep
    on the, smothering
    comicbook type bunk. we wait for rain,
    listen to Vangelis.
    recite parts from
    The Lady of Shalott & so
    the days keep running together.
    I develop an eye infection -
    M says it’s from the neon dust. .
    something about how the colors are poison.

    Even when i wear layers of clothing
    you make the back of my neck tingle..
    are your hands warm?
    I smile because everything turns into something else..
    there is a naked girl in the box above us-
    another in the box below.



    our bodies are hot on a desk in front of a polished mirror > pure to see - white lace > and starched sheets, chiffon and minutes onwards, convolution-spending >
    the it vibrating when we of now, despite our partial partly > I expand him in my pupils.
    he’s on it and curious, anytime, to float with the shift > his body to me,
    it’s real and everything, flesh moving forwards > on a repeated light spin <
    the merry go-rounds > walls. I with a cig, go rounds between sheer curtains with him everywhere, he is my bedroom, > in its Merry- > Wonderfall. > even away, naked, in books >
    He’s the same>,wombed, sometimes crazy & stray > I save the naked, go-rounds, reflect,consciously. i don’t know what it means. the repeated can box, wear vibrating tints rosy.
    > Wonderfall. repeat me, even if jerk i ly, always, day.. even in his days of curtained silence, I keep these pages hidden on the roof with the cool rain and leaves.