I danced on the door of my own self-conscious
Overflowing the flavor and capacity of my palate for dreaming on those shores where food is love and sex is magic
With smoke stained eyes and drug filled brain
Strewing my beliefs into what ever ear was nearest to my breast
And heartbeats drowned out my desire for connection to only a superficial thud
That was made in the shoulder joint that pushed cunts to oblivion
And heaven dripped from my fingers and chin
Down alleys of discontent where my father lived with a gun on his lips
And said who are you
I strolled down Las Ramblas with gunpowder in my pockets and a knife at my throat urging me forward
My own captive mind screaming for release
From the psychosis
Then blues then flamenco then wedding marches
All feet stomping a cadence familiar flung home
The pith and knot of muscles ripped and blood disgorged
To hear what breath meant to hear those words that are just a symbol
For heaven for peace for all good that means nothing outside
A false sense of understanding
Humans or trust
or the goodness of man
Now dowries
to the man on the hill
whom we were promised to
at birth and follow like voles in light
arm on shoulder, arm on shoulder, arm on shoulder
to death
Souls of this America
lie broken and question what sisterhood
or brother hood can exist without this demon
that led us into traps for
oil fire and death
we carry hope in a knapsack tuckered like children
and reflect on our fore peoples mistrust and embrace
what ever is here now for it cannot be
as bad as it seems as bad as it was as bad as the dreams
that lead us chasing snakes through our sleeping hours
the forests of grass that blanket our conscious existence
then wake seeking wholesomeness in
a ten dollar tomato on Saturdays and weekends
while chasing all things green and inedible
everyday of our lives
and lovers kept at arms length
and wives looking for our shoulders
or screaming in the faces of whoever is still paying attention
Now evil women dying at arms length and fingers stretched as far as I can
run from our love because its pity
wrapped in guilt
wrapped in hate tied up by a life of lies
whose ribbon sparkles like the chains of genes
in pretty pictures that remove our “GOD”
because we know something
if not by touch then by sight
Of mountains and land and farms and farmers
that breath each day and kill to feed our fat bellies
miles away and sweat and toil not for their own existence
but ours because we’ve grown too tired and far
and simple in our own belief that mind
is represented in paper in transcripts in words
from those we pay to count our worth
Whose families wonder what frames their existence
all is lost and dream of the people
and lands that have existed
in lives the same for thousands of years
but gadgets make us smart
and money make us whole
and our self-importance makes us worthless
and these words are worthless
worthless as any and every that escape from your lips or my own
for words mean nothing without action and action is an idea that died with our hippy parents ideals that changed into drug riddled bodies to fund wars to divide peoples that mean nothing to us.
Nothing who reside in our parents basements knees bloodied with thanks
Nothing to who live off accounts that fuel and are fueled by a false idea of the worth of things and bring an identity of nothing
No struggle Nothing
who write poems static and undefined
whose unframed perception is crumbling before eyes widened by
an exception to the concrete finished rules
self-imposed ridiculous doubts
and un-composed sense of worth left on a shelf
at the back of a dark and empty closet for years
opens
bursting
blood and cum and snot
disease riddled, once fluid bones on fire!
On Fire!
Built by frozen and crumbling undisturbed dreams
Cast aside in indifference
Whose cracked knuckles and ripped backs jerk
In unison for once.
