Category: Desert Scrawls
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And love is but a trickle in this RAMSHAMBLED river of love, the armies of men keep marching upon the bones of memories under the grass, shot out of cannons, cloud seed ashes billowing and giving the puff of life when all falls down the stairs and justice can’t see…
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His eyes stained this townon a sunny autumn daylike leaves dropping from his eyescrunchy, veiny tears that smelled of winter blissand so,he took a taxi to the world’s greatest fair,and as the visions of this townbounced before his wet eyesthe wicked witch kissof life’s black doorswung open and hit him…
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Memories are deposited, the pains and joys withdrawn – it’s like black-and-white Poland to me, wandering in rags, sleeping in parks, losing muscle just to hustle.
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There’s this long line of darkness on the other side of day I stand there listening to the starless sky flow like Styx There’s that smooth dome of light pollution Pulsing like an orange Creamsicle Never sleeping, always dripping Like childhood summer sun And all above it, that starless sky…
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CEREAL AFTER SEX 