Saturday, March 13, 2010

turn

in these wandered wastelands
desire falls as dust
                   ashes of the past
                   paste the face
as a simulacra of disgust,
the only fire, rust--

Mountains push the sky
                      rivers rush the Sea
          fish flourish
      flashing dreams
of flickering Moon-light
       like a sentence that ends in white
          then
     meander down this page
unfettered, glistening

churn-turn, over and over,
in the night
oh, circadian rhythm
           beat of the Sky
                habit patterns jerk 'n fly
          labyrinthine passages whirl, twirl
                             
in my frontal lobes,
               curl of my brain
where I end up returning,
           eyes burning with rust,
                    to start all over again

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