Monday, April 6, 2009


I need to make another recovery, so come on, devestate me.
Do your worst & get my best, stick a heart right in my chest.
Its generously beating to the tribal drum & all the beats between. My soul is gently soaring so don't fuck it up now.
I can't explain the feeling. My feet are cold, this skin doesn't help.
Everything is lopsided maybe its sinking down one end, I know the garden has.
Make it level on the next level & enter the seventh through several entrances.
Your entrance may cause some tensions, but it's okay the grey suited man's mustache will talk it out with the others.
He'll smooth the paving laying marble over sandstone, he'll make the exit uncluttered & clear, & save the day when you choke on the words your mouth doesn't want to speak.
But your mouth will slip & you'll say something regrettable one day, & you'll be left to your own device to salvage the rest amongst the damage. I need the death of ego because I cannot imagine leaving 'this' all behind and that breeds fear.
Come on rain clouds, storm for me, storm forward, storm the warning, storm the flood, storm my blood, stir my unborn son. Tear the rivers from my insides and wear down rock. Shape, shift, slip, slide, slice & carve corridors. Ravage & savage, manage & damage, bandage my landing & dam my standing, I won't move & I won't budge. At least I don't want to.
There's too many familiar places & similar faces at the end of mazes & concreted spaces. I will make my own on paper, & pen things unseen. I will imagine them first & then wear my dreams. I will drape your skin in things sewn from subconsciousness, & shake what you thought you knew from your head to your toes. Lets all sleep upside down.

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