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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