2005-12-13
'took some acid it was purple like a jacaranda and I could understand her and she understands me...'
Nude descending staircase headless,
not knowing where she is going
but brave because all dreams lack conclusions
and she is not enlisted to an ending
The abstract cannons in the background
are still unfired, still the temperature of a bird, while a depth charged buried in blue paint speckles the door plaques and crab apples of S Street.
In the morning you rise from your bed
and the self-portraits come streaming in
A cold black maple hanger clatters to the floor
sputtering police language, blank, now.
Ideas reach out with dwarf arms, rheumy-eyed,
covered in weak syntax and powderburns.
From here at your office near the end of the river
where messages still trickle in from the interior
like I am here and I am still here
- David Berman
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Almost the ending time, but before still this festive season endless like twinkling lights each night over the horizen
The terrace houses smug and door laden with wreaths and cheer and tiny little berries
and to think this time the year before of all the victories both big and small, and grin proudly and openly at this little world we have created, like a cocoon in another city
Ik Hoot Van Jou!
xoxo M .