Lying down 3 hours a rhythmic beating
A good solemn witchcraft by ourselves – sounds good
Off to bed still like my guardian angel –
Too Late! She said. The damage has been done
Like a broken doll describing her features touching her smooth
Porcelain face – hard/cold nothing could touch.
Wet grass smells like shampoo, newly washed hair,
The glorious monument to our bodies – To Drink!
All artistic radio and the small microscopic antennae of the masses –
The mesmerising backsteps of anxious children,
Heavy rain grazes the garden
This machine kills
You shouldn't be talkin' to me, I make you drunk,
I said what do kittens drink?
I'm a kitten in disguise.
The warm cake smell of thunder bars my mortality,
I am Immortal!
I see brown misted pools winked exhausted
Breathless shattering the heavens about possibilities of beating God.
If I humped my physical gait to the highest light-surpassed
Mountain I would let the hard-nothing hard-summer
Half-light and unreal diamond my un-immortal mists of imagined life;
Electric as my body –
Purple pink black – the sky changes,
And we are all in the sky, mourning the lost sexual
Angels, taking the world by the hand.