Monday, August 29, 2011

Broken silvergreen sentences sustained by the lyric instability of wet stones blinking in the foam

She was stapled like a cloud
to a corner of the sky
the color of beach pavement
              & I was a wine-stained tombstone cutback
as ominous as a shadow
              falling across a bead curtain
                              in another room

The sunset glass made it a perfect setting for
a soul session with the drainpipe crew
& we danced on the string of a tropical memory
              as she always preferred something euphoric
a tidepool with a fuse in it
for example
                              lit & sputtering
as long as it left a scar

I was as the wind whispering like sand
              across the pavement
& she was a refrigerator full of adrenaline
                              rippling in the dark