Friday, 24 August 2012

s om e fr agme n ts

blind snakes she turns away from the passing city




follow or don't rub my eyes as you drink your coke




the falling of skin into my pocket some faint ferriswheel




putting my face back in place ”honey, the moon”




birds - something to get over - iron flakes like dancers (and hurt)




a skin like asphalt (or the other way round) we fish for moon faces




don't bother he's a politician unplug the gravity cable




in a corny 80's shirt (those patterned ones, “wild”) adjusting the bladder content manually




“Ican'treallygetoverit” … “get over it” I reply




carsick reading the Gita on a Casio watch “don't blame it on the lizard”




“they grow moustaches and eat their children” a nail root stuck in a sock




concrete Apollo and Diana (mossy) someone uses an old typewriter somewhere




does she “net-date”? I can sit with my hand down the pants (the right one)




if you have something to say get money (and lots of it) first




among the sagebrush a culture of fear erases knowledge




the glass has to be hard and coated some rust sticks to my conscience








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