Starting today off right, with something I just wrote:
27 February 2008
You told me your stomach was a roller coaster.
I see myself distorted in your breasts
like a pair of fun house mirrors.
Your torso is a carnival.
My fingertips are children running screaming
across the fairgrounds towards the next ride.
I heard there’s a new ride called Twinfinity
where we roll down a hill, embraced,
and at the bottom, the sky falls out of our eyes.
Stars twist around us, forcing us to collide
in a kiss that lasts forever.
<end>
Sorry I’ve been gone a few days (yes, I’m apologizing to pretty much myself).
There are times I feel ridiculous addressing multitudes of imaginary readers,
but I don’t think it’s an unhealthy ide, so I’ll stick with it.
I’ve had the notion in my head for awhile that colors may vary from observer to observer. We’ll never know if one’s persons Green is our Green.
“Hey, what does your green look like? And don’t say ‘green,’ I have no way of verifying that.”
Imagine your hair growing to the floor in 5 seconds… I mean, just erupting out of your head, but steadily, like those play-doh barber shops where clay comes out of giant head pores.
The Contents of the Universe
The Universe is full of policemen
with femurs for batons
and bleached grins
for flashlights.
My head sunk slowly and steadily
into my ribcage.
Now I can’t see the forest
for the smoke in my lungs.
These membranes were once
innocent and translucent
like a gaudy portrait
of the Virgin Mary
on a glass lamp base.
The Universe is full
of schmucks like me,
who dare to meddle
in the affairs of gods
and ghosts,
only to wake up
next to failure.
All along, we slept with failure.
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