Words of varying strengths fucking and punching one another, lighting cigarettes and putting on coats. All creating shadows that we call poems with a queer read on them.
Sunshine on stone Take me to the olive trees On the hill Watch the boats Come one by one Turning the sky inside out Draw a lion in the dust A wolf in the cloud The coolness of the grass The warmth of your stomach The falcon overhead Distant voices The boys swimming Old ladies yelling at lonely girls Hear the song of history calling Shirt hanging over branch Summer sweat The mainland coast Blue and Grey and Green Golden song of ancient instinct Power Strength Breathing in air The scent of pine Sex and sea On a hill high Sunshine on skin The song of history calling
The artist thought he heard a murder taking place Over and down through the smoke and in the mirrors The paint was too smudged and a brush was on the floor The light wasn't allowing him to see the difference The river had a town on it's side with a handful of lovers Nobody dreaded the lovers and the lovers dreaded nobody The reflection in the water made everything look resigned The sign over the bridge was stolen at least once a year Breakfast in the hotel was a celibate affair Outside the weather was holding us hostage at sub zero The hexagons on the wallpaper made our eyes hurt And then the clouds broke against the window I don't remember much, there was litter on the floor There was a fool who drove past with no lights on A bird shocked the chef as it hit the window's reflection And a new Jesus was born into the suburbs He reminded me that I must: Find the large man with bent nose and kiss him upon his clean shaven cheek Drink champagne on the r...
An education, it seems, is needed For me to learn that I am not a sunflower Greek Jew An education, it seems, is needed For me to know that I am not an infinite German of happiness An education is needed For me to know what the beauty of rent and geraniums are For me to be able to tell you what music is What art to like and what birds to watch flying across the morning sky An education is needed for me to know When to stop loving you To keep my discipline in shape To keep my suits sharp, and clean and neat An education, it would seem, is needed To tell the difference between Cohen, and Burroughs, and John Wayne's ghost To know when to plant orchards or cement To know when the stores are closed And when and why their windows will be smashed An education will be needed For me to know when to wait by the cemetery In the sun, in a woollen cap, grey eyes looking at the grass An education, it seems, is needed For me to discuss the voodoo media with my father For me...
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