i look forward to fingering her keys
making them do what i desire
making love in the global
air of time
space of my words,
making metaphors,
into lines
narrations
of sex, man
woman food,
of grief and happiness
of laughter
joy..
all passion
the great pusher
of light
heavy
and hard
falling down
into space
and time
instant like that
and this
of what is
remembered..
forgotten..
wasted..
for we are still
in the
wasteland
our end
is
our begining
and in
this
inning
the time
is now
bloggers and blaggers
alike commit suicide
vomiting
their guts
soul in the dailies
right here
right now..
from
the outer world
to the
inner world
to the
inner self.
shining light
against
the rock
of all
our falling ages.
can you hear them
saying,now
coming with pens,
‘ i got ta’ cut’cha
Leave a Reply