My baby's into the blues

Forgotten, and cold.
Sweat, and paradise.


"Oh, baby" she sang

"Oh, baby,
sweet cider woman.
Grab the gun.

The desert called
but at noon you'll be
tender,
rolled
over
my knees
woman"


...

...

...

...



Woman, now drown the cigarette.
Tell a different story, man.


"They will not notice."

Grab your jaw and mine, and break them, man.
My baby's into the blues.

("Oh baby,
your cinnabar eyes
what I want
I can't afford")

Sing free.
Sing them, grab them by the single cord, it's our bare hands the ones that are speaking for ourselves.



Woman, this is when you leave
with your constipated hands flickering.
And your motherly affection at the lowest.


Something is in the air,
I can feel the blues, the smell of the dirt.


("Sweet sweet
woman how
you screamed
for the love of him for the love of him.
Bide, woman, and grab the gun again")



We're under layers of sheets and laughing.
Unroll, you loaded creature.
Red, plum. Feed the wine.
My baby's all over the blues.

Play the music once more,
hand me your best effort, the riffs that I love.


And lend the woman a hand, man.
You keep them all safe,
store them.
I'll burn them half today half tomorrow
For your name alright.


Juice of hunger.
My baby loves the blues.

Liver

Rip me, I'm hardly there.

Limbs

"See me there with the scent of the night that holds this place."

(a meadow)

"I am not doing anything but beckoning your arms and legs, and failing, I thought it would be fun to crack our creamy shoulders in half, and so we did so we did so we did"


And then we come around

I ask to you: will we ever be long-legged enough and less headed to be able to touch our arms without having to build a weak excuse?

Ten Steps

In order to truly see: read between the lines, child.

(Catch the bird falling)

-

Who am I kidding, Edna?

I know: myself, and stop humming already.

You rose from inside two white bushes, to my surprise!

(then catched the bird falling)

I looked to my right, I saw everything I needed to see,
You've seen it before Edna, have you?

You're ten steps ahead.

And he strummed your strings himself.

What did it feel like, Edna?
I looked at your hollow face, I couldn't tell.
You stood there.

Each string
told
a

st
o
r
y

and I stood there
as well.

Collapsing.


I catched the bird I catched it alright.

Journey Further Fantastic

Then there's the sun wiping our burdens,
Masking our eyes.

I walked a straight line with dirt beneath my feet, water beneath my fingers.
The dim lights swallowed moths once more. The tumbleweeds swallowed oxygen.

I had a tendency to look downwards then looking upwards and allowing the sun to gobble.

And there's the moon providing a place to hide.

"Mate stop mourning over, then jump and hide again."

I looked at the spaces between the fences, I happened to be thinking about us.
I waved the streetlights goodbye.

Look at the creatures now look at the children. That.

I want to be able to say it without giving out what I want.
What do you have to say?

(sound of iron melting)

I fight for my bones, that.
And what do I have to do to freeze this frame we are in?


Who? and when?
I asked, that: What kind of moral is that?
Have respect towards me, mate! I lend and you take and I expect something back.

I want to hear what you have to say

Maybe then,
Lacking of air and water might be much bearable


I told you breaking someone in half was an option.
That, losing lungs, desire.
Air and all.

Say to your love, "watch your back".

And do it again.

Five Moths

Louder, in spring.
That, we knew.

(a monkey peeling off to get to the core)

I will guess
if you blindfold me with your bare hands.

I didn't laugh.

And I don't care where you've been, rather I care that you are here now.

the Seagulls

The sour air woke me.
On top of the hill, on top of the pigment.


I didn't find a pinch of backlash, I truly searched in the dirty snow and I couldn't so I quit.
There was a need, the wind could tell.


I took my garments outside, and still, in the same form of sensuous feeling the breeze woke me with, I walked downhill and the more I descended, the mistier it got.

I didn't trip this time.
I forgot, I found three dried-up vultures on the snowy grass, eyeless.

What else? It's quite a task to re-create the events, mate.

Oh, ginger roots.
I picked some ginger roots so I could make tea afterwards.

- - -

"I had forgotten all about the segulls."

"When I was at the shore I was greeted by seagulls."

"And when I ended up thinking you had perished, you pierced you rised up and the seagulls had me scrapping the ground off, bare-handed."

"That's the catch, you're atop my brain and that's hardly saying something."

"When I stopped thriving, the seagulls had my back, they begged for me to bear."

"If this is somewhat sane (I said) I am now beginning to feel the metal nuts twisting in my stomach."

"The seagulls nodded in approval."

"They were so mean, mate, I put a stop to it, I put a stop to them."

"I did it alright, see, I grabbed the upper side of my lamp and I leaked the oil, mate, I leaked it alright."

"If that wasn't brave from my behalf, then what are you implying it was?"


"I yelled at the seagulls nonetheless. "This is my day" that's why I yelled, they stood there."

"But I stood there too, mate. That's all I re-call.

Mess."


- - -


You're already on a high hill, free of fog unless you come down.

Will I wear boots? Probably.
And if you care, I will be caring seventy times more, you stepped on rocks.



And I
fell in love
with a submarine.

Honey Freckles

"I won't leave"
Then I left.

It rained, was that a clue?


Until we stop, I care,
and it's hard to picture
us in space. Determined.

In spite of that, I'll keep my sane mind, the one that stored beautifuly, mate:

Honey freckles I recall, puzzling-me-they-were-so-many.
We were on labour, and hair comes to mind as hands would come to legs.

/Felt


Putting the gloves on and turning the switch off,
We were at that: busting light out, only dim lights in our space,
We would yarn with oily fingers, so unaccurately to my sight
But it brought us closer

I didn't notice it was raining until you pointed it out.

Freckles, once more, honey-coated.
Beauty that blossoms, we portray.
And guns would rip my flesh inadvertedly, they are carved beneath my ribs and won't-you-see-them-they-are-clearly-there.

What kind of joke is that?
We're both immersed, and the oddest angles are the ones you love, admit it.

What are you like on the inside?
Oily, and, like a furnace: burning.

What is it?
Do you think I will not crawl? Because I am capable of.

Time will determine your next move, and mine.




It's safe to say you have a mind that keeps sweeping the same dust and doesn't care to evolve,




If it would,
we would not be sitting here.

You were made of wood.

Fair enough, if this is how you thrive, then:

Your intellectual side cannot compare to the side you have brought forth
And if I, carried, am aware of this, this should be an easy task:

You have brought forth mountains and water, sure
What else?
Shadows of pine trees.
Therein lies the issue:

Sure your marrow grows effervescently and has been under my nose all this years,
how did I not see?
Would I trade this?
Would I differ in seek?

I simply knew this beforehand.
See:

A row of arrows, have-they-been-fired-yet?
If not, they will never cease.


Atop your biggest intentions lies fear, mate.

But, what were you made of seven years ago?
I can't wait to find out.








I wouldn't say we have yet to consume,
I wouldn't say we have been consumed for the last time, either.

the First Pact

"Possibly, it might work, I garnished I garnished my own fingers tapping."

"Oh you garnisher it's the fourth the one I have"
{what for?}


"Pay attention to detail, mate."

"I can care I can get the third one sure, that one might work, will it?"

"It's the finest."

"(Barely) I'll go out of my way, will you keep shut?, I'm warproof"

"I promise and will I have to wait?"

. . .

"But you already know the answer"

"True."

"Is it evident?"

"What?"

"Nothing, you might smile on Friday and that's if we're not interrupted"

"By the stubborn?"

"By the heavy-handed"

"I'll shake them off"

"Would you? But I'm actually eager, there is yet one slot to be filled."