Thursday, October 25, 2012

never hustle a girl

in the high spaces where the birds call 
found in the broken pulse of time 
bubble cloud air and water mixed 
drought wilted jungle 
listen, quiet, still 
mare's tail, cat's tail 
white flesh 
nothing between her 
drying paint on native skin 
blood becomes timebomb

her eyes on green wave
diffuse fog
hyenas cry in the trees 
orange beak and claw 

evening flights 
empty crossings 

time claims its victory now  
each is made of dust
trapped in  the constellations 
the dead and green leaves clutter 
vultures waiting for the rust 

formless scud 
albatross dying 
snake scales lapping snake scales 
transportation for the dead
fingers, arms 
she is turning to stone 
a woman in the branches 
if she falls
faith, desolation, and life.
Noise, exhaustion, and death
hot electric storm afternoon 

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the strangest of the strange...

the strangest of the strange...
...i am

star loves the beatles too

star loves the beatles too
yeah i love the beatles too