Saturday, December 28, 2013

thought exhibitions

scratched that image
of your book, Vincent knew
nights zonder limits, things
she says she soon forgets
whispers in my shouts
reversing love, so right but
so me, ti mess, a ride, momus I got
momus, got to keep, keep it
keep telling from far, never stopped
scratching
you, hitchhike to the crypt
cold with candles, you.

trying to understand that
fucking thing, drinking the choir
all over again, I like
peepholes in tin drums
wool in crust on your knee, losing
beaches in wet paper bags
wet from the ocean
thought exhibitions, all 
cannot be fixed, dangerous
animals on porches, deer
moms of deer wifes chewing snakes

I like to watch pixels on white
horses on a PC, I like
blinking stars, big wheels
in big bowls turning transcendence
moons kicking light off screen
on your forehead, I like
you not looking, 
I like you not 
looking at me
and then, suddenly