Wednesday, June 25, 2008

word rainbow running round skulls

word rainbow running round skulls
death-boring fingers and this tree
myopic diatribe, a caricature of red wing toys
the sadness of willows and babys
in trees' eye lids heavy with out the flavor of summer
covered in flourenct lights, gummed neck joints
thoughts of "here"
this launguage uses me i dont
comand nothing, to choose a word
the thought may be mine but the word is not
and here we always end
up at the bottom of the gutter
far from the stars