Chemical Habits of a Timeless Century
November 10, 2006 § Leave a comment
Staggered, the bruised trumpet spit but did not rot.
The infant bees put their happy muscles to sleep
In the illusion of a breakneck pulse;
The ecstasy overcame the marrow,
the joints were oiled and the pesky bedsore splints scattered
with mad, mad thoughts of heathers and stephens in the improvisational flesh;
Found all-a-them in the details of clowns, in classic drawn-out remarks, payoffs for history on the face of earth told by musky musky mimes on colorful May days.
What a crazed sleep you were in when you balanced all those books on your head, and how ’bout those smoky snowflakes melting in slow motion?
The pills, the medication cures
the loser phantasm mastered.
Breathe in gulp the deepest random decades, City,
Go meet the Town where the seeds are aplenty.
Forego the answers in the trickery and drive.