very well, you liberals
when i go back to earth
and i have flung my soul into your eyes
eighty years have passed
i had a dream and i awoke with it
a smile has come to be
tripping up, falling down
backwards turn backwards
i love my hour of wind and light
you think of me in the hand of a street vendor, in the
clank of a gate as my heart makes its exit below the city.
in a city that wears barest white, holding her gear
against the lights of herself. when she walks—she's
your palm thinning against the winter sun.
her brother spits up the freeway—clenching me in a
fist of calendar numbers—scratching his back
restlessly on the necks of redwoods.
when you are at the base of something you cannot
possibly judge its height.
not unlike your eyes fusing their behaving ovals into
rambunctious octagons when your face is close to mine.
like glances out of dark forest. like naked in the classroom.
but I've got to watch my sentimentality. it's loaded
and right under my chin, i can smell the bullet, which
reeks of fish thankful for the alternative use of the
lead (no weights + bait this evening).
i've got to watch my back—it's bending in the middle
like wet wood trying to be something other than strict
straight lines. it's curving under the weight of my
numbness retention. but still, even the wallpaper
gives up around me,
so it's hard not to follow the crowd.
i will divide my life into two colors for the actual
efforts located deep inside the lowest part walls
built three moonlights from the floor everything but
fame climbing out limiting a mystery admiring the
worlds work rumbling tumbling the wind was blowing
splitting my hair yesterday panicking killing two i
haven't found a voice to fill in the quiet in gestures
thinking i was only seven days wasted this time i must
have felt something in the morning i miss you he said
two bottles buried in bed something even less sincere
my hands were open your eyes wider shining light a
little after dawn it was too late to make a break the
moon was laughing at the sight of every single
observation a pile of ashes glorious dejection will be
more than half of you dry pavement a last habitat
violent downpour unbelievably true a flying word
softly now the light along the banks tells me here and
there happiness stir the day is done a love for any
lady love leads my feet dance no more let a running
river be fossilized ego falters in the find i am awed
to learn among the rocks id gladly take a course on
blanks foretaste the consequence of devising ways in
human minds to be celebrating an ancient spell
religions casting against responsibility for life on
earth what will the heart and consciousness bring a
truth unchallenged salivating to mock our shock love
so abstract to defy the mind to find multiplied sweet
relief beyond the call blossoms bursting the bands of
light reminding me of how soon you will forget that we
had never met catastrophic clippings hidden moments
burning fields the minute from the movement going on
claims of reason go under the trees shaking faking as
if the wind was moved by me as i drift into a dream
cascading falls flooding across the earth bright as
the warmth swimming through my skin so subtle so
delicate with the power to ignite its been eighteen
cycles around the generations past asleep beneath the
grass passed away when your beauty is nothing i have
never forgotten we will have just left the secret life
saints sinners madmen gurus dreamers weavers are you
sure you want to come in here sometimes days or even
weeks will reappear playing patience sits alone people
trounce up city streets spewing your diaphanous seeds
risky exuberance absorbed nowhere but here rebuilt
midwinter rosy cheeked the street is the same that you
travelled on last night an explosion of lights gasps
flashes crowds rockets are soaring like unicorn manes
would make it all worthwhile as the temptress' heels
clock over the ground bodies will shine evocative sea
sweat and its secret here is a star here is a luna
moth these words my nocturnal emissions written in
invisible ink unseen here but appearing there the
constants the sun will shine over houses that were
bombed in the night
Check out dHi's blog at http://definitivehigh.blogspot.com/.