From the early morning I toss around, considering arise and a flow of me into day. The black & white animals surround, and I, limbs askew on tiny bed free, awake. I don't have obligation to the telephone, or to the doorbell. I have my own rose portals, portrayed through a door and the dog, I prey, won't sound a cry at the basic intrusions. They live all about, quiet as gnats, save when the fruit grows foul & the flies move, multiply. My sun shivers, my sound shivers in an isolated building's edge kind of way, like the glimpse of a glimmering skyscraper scrape against the blue back of a day. The backgound, and in it revs a distasteful engine. And mine own engine in it's revolutions per second, imploding high to headache heights. Piercing the sky. Mine own revolutions carrying me so. Bite me, we do.
15 August 2009
my waste is quieted
From the early morning I toss around, considering arise and a flow of me into day. The black & white animals surround, and I, limbs askew on tiny bed free, awake. I don't have obligation to the telephone, or to the doorbell. I have my own rose portals, portrayed through a door and the dog, I prey, won't sound a cry at the basic intrusions. They live all about, quiet as gnats, save when the fruit grows foul & the flies move, multiply. My sun shivers, my sound shivers in an isolated building's edge kind of way, like the glimpse of a glimmering skyscraper scrape against the blue back of a day. The backgound, and in it revs a distasteful engine. And mine own engine in it's revolutions per second, imploding high to headache heights. Piercing the sky. Mine own revolutions carrying me so. Bite me, we do.
