sorry I slithered out of your glue, primates in the trees called time, I screamed hoarse
ventured to build a better society, got lost in the bushes outside your dream, headphones
watched the glow from a late show, saw space traces bullet down your house, big armchair
back at the bottom line, bad coordinates for living, what the pipe smoked, what I hoped
a charged houseplant with claws mangled the musical psychic air, it helps to have limits
nail down the rope so its lengths can be pulled taut, nailed again, misfire, rocket launch
I don't have the butterfly trigger, the war bonnet of smoke, no network to Windhoek
the heat got to the engine, the oxygen got to the iron, the pigment painted a dye
the balloon had combustion carrying revolution, the tropic utterance of a bay
a singer's sabbatical in an ocean of snow, mountain crest groping dark
no precognition, no energy from the sun, just a rusty sleigh ride
snowshoe hares and spry foxes, stuttering, staggered lines
all that was left was an empty gondola barreling
No comments:
Post a Comment