strains my eyes hurts my ears - stop that! prattfalling name calling drunken fool dreaming some vast besotted sodden ego cryptic kicks tapping their rhythm a French tango only the French don't tango yodelling hoarse voiced horse shit full of wine feels fine soaked in brine in photo-chemical black & white like City Lights
this was my first response to the prompt quoted below; a much more, uh, elaborate (?) reaction is currently gestating. this is a place holder, in effect.
a scanner partly:
To be or not to be Some freak anomaly A ghost rattling chains of electricity Behind a cloud of plasma energy The hole in the heart, the absence of a centre The hollow core hiding In a magnetic field.
i thought i saw - i must have dreamed the king of the island lagoon reflected etched into the coral the old king's face long green beard of seaweed and a smile as rusty as old doubloons no, i don't think he looked like you i don't think he looked like anything much but what he was the king of the island.
today i was decorating you with leaves and you pulled monkey faces grinning as i forced fruit skins and useless maps between the gap of your laughing jaw bone
today i broke a heel slavering butter on the sun
today i strolled long legged and shoeless irritated into history.
what is this place, this place so sketchy, so uneasily defined this could be a cellar or a kitchen maybe or at least a home to hang the hearts in a workshop for strange inspections investigating our every gesture and expression the body with its donkey skin has alien engines and tiny motors what is the purpose of this? to make us tick?
In the evening, watching As the lanterns were lit Astonished as they took to the air Fiery in the sky and Rising so far up it seemed impossible But for the oohs and aahs of children standing in the field.
“Wow!” i said.
“Those lanterns” you said, “we call them cow chokers. They are Really bad.” “Oh.”
And the night and the dark felt better then.
I thought about a girl i know. One of her eyes is artificially closed. I really like her.
the notion being - the next gen; one card does all.
(in a Roisin Murphy style? um...)
card it:
dainty aint she sweet card carrying slim magazine style marketing margarine help you create go create help to create envy envy go create envy aint she sweet? ( Read more... )
There she lies among the reeds jewel bright bone and silver beads like oil, like resin like the ghost of a game lost with a childhood drowned with her name.
please remember to follow all instructions not everything is signposted
and we don't let just anyone in through the gates
there will be refreshments served as this is something of a long tour those wishing to ignore the sound of harps and hosannas may do so by flipping the channel on the headphones provided those wishing to smoke may do so below. ( Read more... )