kodiak blazer poncho pullovers.
time is open, could be lost
look for, make it something like a solid, like an origami whale
standing on the kitchen cupboard
the lights low and the wires tangling
up to the air, stale like the stuffy house
crooked on all ends.
spread time thinly on a crumbly cracker
dropped on the floor face down
take it on a two-hour walk
by arguable measures
rusty screws and see-saws
sandy pits ,receding footsteps
swishing denim jeans, knobby knees hit.
pop fizzly crackling nails
sore thumbs and baggy eyes.
chalked up concrete
one two threefour five
skipped up drowned out
fallen glass, broken love.
knots in the crevices,
blue sky heaven, twigs in a vase.
pounding down the pillows
fixing up the bottles,
slipping through the floor
dancing down the stairs into the yards
cats flying and birds are preying
the lines go upwards beyond
out of sight.
i'm going to be late
late for it all
nothing that i'm missing
but i could be missing most.
1994 when i was nine
i was lighting old shacks on fire
and feeding horses apples
from my hand
teeth
yellow weird
lips and but oh
so pretty nice tails and brushed out
manes.
i dont know but whenever i'm ready
time really is
by general standards.
i'm not in a terribly brilliant mood today. and i think that i might not be tomorrow or the next.
look for, make it something like a solid, like an origami whale
standing on the kitchen cupboard
the lights low and the wires tangling
up to the air, stale like the stuffy house
crooked on all ends.
spread time thinly on a crumbly cracker
dropped on the floor face down
take it on a two-hour walk
by arguable measures
rusty screws and see-saws
sandy pits ,receding footsteps
swishing denim jeans, knobby knees hit.
pop fizzly crackling nails
sore thumbs and baggy eyes.
chalked up concrete
one two threefour five
skipped up drowned out
fallen glass, broken love.
knots in the crevices,
blue sky heaven, twigs in a vase.
pounding down the pillows
fixing up the bottles,
slipping through the floor
dancing down the stairs into the yards
cats flying and birds are preying
the lines go upwards beyond
out of sight.
i'm going to be late
late for it all
nothing that i'm missing
but i could be missing most.
1994 when i was nine
i was lighting old shacks on fire
and feeding horses apples
from my hand
teeth
yellow weird
lips and but oh
so pretty nice tails and brushed out
manes.
i dont know but whenever i'm ready
time really is
by general standards.
i'm not in a terribly brilliant mood today. and i think that i might not be tomorrow or the next.