orchid

Drowsy incorporeal mess –
slouching; swaying on a sidestreet
oh, hold the living soul before it goes
Plato knows what it once was
tired, fainting, tumbling
rhythm of figures moving silently –
a senile deafness lumbering its way home,
heavy pain under clear blue,
and tobacco stains in the living
room
 
ghost-like. soul-fed. upset. repeat.
 
America, with her concrete veins,
chain-smoking in metallic blue
easy chirpworld digging up smoke in a multicolored den
subspace rolling fire photos of wet angles and Jesus in
firehalo knifing open the cigars so the dusty guts
spray on bare arms
my heart is here
backbones exposed in the soft light where
we were the rats in a labyrinth
Remember when we stood on the edge of a painted world?
first words blistering the air,
daisy petal scars and melancholy breath
smoke of fresh gray pure day Oh! with the stems
we left in the grinder the rose petals touching the
lamp light resurrected, rising from Pinot Noir bottles
spelling: wordfresh toleration!
Blow through this holy dinerworld
Meatless wonder in ankleskins harmonizing to the
firepitch in the car alarm bleeping in unity disappearing
before the beat stops Oh! hold fire land
light us white and build up these smokestacks that
pump our blood out our wombs
dancing day made NEW –
 
I found your oldsoul hidden on a crossbow
 
When you drifted backward,
you shifted blue, as tumbly as our
cotton clouds,
my teethy sire, my cloudlover
in olive tones dribbling a quartz stone
as our folly gritters away –
I am an open gate,
come breathe my fertile air