Tuesday, September 22, 2009

those fucking mauve lampshades in my mom's living room


 I'm in love with tacky lampshades and young boys who bend their skin over hollow gourd. 
 Make noises with fruit of eggs.
 Pondered shells with the purpose of tan remains inside ivory legs
 printed the granulars on the pressured remains atop paved, with beaches led to wooden worn walkways to doors
 by thoroughfares and moistened red spaces of drinking or eating places.

 they fall in love, women taking off their clothes or their faces,
 influence of compromise anhroud the art of compensation of collecting the gutter drenched baggage of balcony breakups or equivalence.
 I accept animals
 Into my heart, like the jesus of dark waves inside my rhythm
 Inside virgin sunsets to bible hymns that don't use real words without teeth
 I fell in love with jungle trees

 Touch ancient medicine bijous beneath chipper
 money green leaves among funny birds whisper.
 Counter tops by running noises above tiny pools,
 serious glasses empty of what my mouth was full.


 Just make love, just make love, just make love
 among confusion by the smell of the pineapple trees
 with which eyes of the wild had found their way to our senses
 in purple and silver air lost and uncomprehensive ..

 It cools the circular burn marks constellated across
 mauve mounted mantel scarred in spiritual brands 
 above this bed made of fallen feathers and sand.
 All pouring out cuts on a body.
 coddled the seedy,
 danced the water and sometimes grew our home,
 from where i want to lick you there to make you feel good
 i'm in love with the finger dirt and horsehair

 lay against savage orange that slept above the black circle in the sky
 that separates into trisects and then diamonds and then  litter
 money copper leaves and funny birds cease whisper.
 i'm in love with the suns tacky lampshade

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