Hello.

The world lies with me,
its fallow orbit deep in space, pretending...

What obscene gesture is it pointing at me, spinning?
Deceived, horizontal, prone, belonging...

Forcing oneself along, darling
beheading cleft visions,
dancing in dynamite for gold
and my kingdom's horses 
drawing, quartering the centuries.

Yes.

Gods queue up against a wall,
wanting their tea
- cats snaking between their bedraggled legs,
their eyes wearing two lids each,
blinking twice randomly -

The purring silence oozing below the door,
opening the heart
swelling with embarassment
and lost pride.

And.

Now, the same angels peer
naked,
out open curtains,
the window displacing
people passing by
-their momentum swung in pendulum shopping bags,
full of dreams and debt -
trying
to look innocent
when looking away...
aroused.

So.

Who wouldn't find a knocked down angel attractive?
All their bits so romantically arranged,
underbellies torso-ed on public display?
forever young and for all ages standing
in police line-ups,
suspected of crimes
-as dawn breaks-
against humanity, below them.

All the love in the world,
crumbles into a hole, 
dug for buried treasure,
swaddling ancestors in their secrets,
mummified 
- their runny noses intact
for future generations to pick at.

8/03/02