How well her wishes went! She stroked my chin,
She taught me Turn, and Counter-turn, and stand;
She taught me Touch, that undulant white skin:
I nibbled meekly from her proffered hand;
She was the sickle; I, poor I, the rake,
Coming behind her for her pretty sake
(But what prodigious mowing did we make.)
-A child's rhyme stuck in my head.
It said that life is but a dream.
I've spent so many years in question,
to find I've known this all along.-
"So good to see you.
I've missed you so much.
So glad it's over.
I've missed you so much.
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running away?
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running?"
-Shrouding all the ground around me.
Is this holy crow above me.
Black as holes within a memory
and blue as our new second sun.
I stick my hand into his shadow
to pull the pieces from the sand.
Which I attempt to reassemble
to see just who I might have been.
I do not recognize the vessel,
but the eyes seem so familiar.
Like phosphorescent desert buttons
singing one familiar song... -
"So good to see you.
I've missed you so much.
So glad it's over.
I've missed you so much.
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running away?
Came out to watch you play.
Why are you running away?"
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,
I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, form'd from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their
parents the same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back a while sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
Fret for your figure and
Fret for your latte and
Fret for your lawsuit and
Fret for your hairpiece and
Fret for your prozac and
Fret for your pilot and
Fret for your contract and
Fret for your car.
It's a bull-shit three ring cirrrrrcuus siiideshow of
freaks here in this hopeless ****ing hole we call LA.
The only way to fix it is to flush it all away.
Any ****ing time.
Any ****ing day.
Learn to swim, I'll see you down in Arizona bay.
KMC Community Forums
Nov 12th, 2007 11:03 PM
