I went to the
red
wood
sleepy
cabin
and
The Girl
With
Kaleidoscope
Eyes
was there.
Remember
when I said
'uh oh'?
I meant it.
We sat
under a gentle
sun.
We dropped into
a slippery progression;
playing
hip-slightly
behind the
beat
and
blood-rushing
at the
turnaround.
There were
more
super-impositions,
teasing out
everything
I ever
thought
and fretted.
Feel it?
Our embrace
is the
most sensuous
tambura snarl;
so modal
and fine,
yet
ghost cardinals
snare the window
while I play
hesitation blues.
Why?
Why?
She breaks
all the way
through
with
her
fingers
and tongue
and voice
and eyes
and sun
and lips
and trees
and hills
and leaves
and love
and hips
and art
My ears are
enucleated
but
my soul
is smiling
and
my
heart is twisting...
6 comments:
are you aware there is a horrific photograph of an eyeball in the middle of your otherwise enjoyable blog entry. i'm afraid the vibrators have escaped me as an act and i am completely ignorant regarding anything they have done.
fooking is indeed a staple of the language across here in alblivion (aahhh i do wish i'd thought of that - i will steal it and pass it off as mine). as we now have 24 pub and bar opening over here now i shall give you an example of the quaint and charming useage you will often find in jolly olde england.
'you fookin looking at me'
'what you fooking looking at, prick'
'you fooking want some do ya, ya fooking stupid c*%t, do ya, do ya fooking want some eh....dont tell me to fooking shutup mate....i'll fooking give you something to fooking look at, fooking prick'
etc etc etc.....
this is normally followed by a few woefully timed drunken headbutts, wild, uncoordinated punches that serve only to make the agressor look more ridiculous and, of course, continuing expressive use of the fooking word.
Fook yeah!
Dog. Dog. Why?
Shirley is very sick. I am worried. It's my backwards plea to gawd. It's also something from The Basement Tapes...
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