Tuesday, September 1, 2009

forest house

legs hollowed my inherent posterior of pale indifferent expression.
a memory so less than subtle present aberrational impressions.
ill make you a home within the presence of tall trees.
because I am an animal made to love and lay within just one.
we are animals of culmination.
our nighttime forest castle will dissolve away over time.
i'll lay in the kitchen dead, covered in leaves, eaten by our old neighbors.
You're not even anywhere to position your resigned series of tastes around my skin.
I live among art so why not die in art?
you drag along this tortured suit of a muse, why not die as one too?
wouldn't you want to culminate into a million things that'll bring you further out of something so less vibrant.
and being able to not care...
or not care....
or how can a rational contrast be realized?
a glass body of nothing left to be used hollowed my inherent posterior of pale complacent, cool, cold, expression.
why buy blackberries at farm stands by the side of the road
when i found all we need on the forest floor.
three colors and none in the rainbow.
oh i just wanna lay you forever
within art, cause it's the only honesty within a medium of pointlessness.
do you believe what i say?

1 comment:

soft black said...

this is a beautiful poem.