Monday, 27 February 2012
Saturday, 18 February 2012
Small Potato Offerings
Pure Ginsberg visions slumped
in arctic dutch interior, archaic double crunch Vishnu,
sour cocoa epiphanies new
filled the room with abstract voodoo innuendo tapping foot,
to San Francisco beat prayers with the mild madness of
chocolate Sanskrit slowly
melting distinctions between duvet and cosmos
confusing California haze, old smog, marijuana monuments
our young nowhere bodies left floating
in great liquid saloons of writhing lost clocks
in black bricked coffee shops divine,
green light bathing in American jazz jitters
on the tips of our zigzag tongues briefly tinged
with the melancholia of modern music,
language soothed by moon
and me
giddy-eyed child
unravelled, marvelous dancing in the buffet breast of visual amnesia
hollow reflection peepshow window muse.
Find an artist and look at him
playing flute
coughing swirls of frozen blue-buddha-bird-bong-dust into Venus Temple
having telepathic chicken sensations,
birthplace of the bullet proof zinc goddess of the sink
zoned out on zion bunk beds
under original nakedness of thought.
Strange paranoia walls,
dazzling Adonis window
sky painted in carbohydrate soul rush
golden pale face twitching with self-knowing street corner puddle,
splashing in the vibrant call of her error machine.
Oh, divine,
Oh, divine,
Oh divine provocation of time!
Only perverts sleep,
in this drifting-head-raft-city
curtains closed to resemble Last Judgement
where holographic God as Klimt is revealed, trembling
through soul exposed and rolled into sweet vapour of curious joint.
On ceiling, one star mocks another
soaking in their soft illuminations of timeless morning
sat weeping
shoulders of the boys in endless hour tying rapid dialect to cast their tired eyes
into feverish seas
of Eastern Atlantis psilocybe.
