Standing At The Crossroads

Birdbath

Everything will be fine.

Leitmotif

15 Years

waiting for that day
to be locked away by 
sheets and walls of white.
I wait for the man, a silhouette,
an umbrella, a cry,
a time, overrun my stay.
We point the fingers, 
run and hide,
I have a feeling in my stomach 
and a look in your eye
that you might have something to say:
where shifts in light are out of my control
while trapped crickets click in their chamber cups.


Painting: Jackson Pollock's 'The Deep'

untitled (the shadow man has left for now)

watch my mouth for words to taste
smile & shout if you want to take my place
streograms & visual games
find them lingering on my reeking face
these eyes see
watch them burn twenty-one shades of blue
you don't believe
caught up with the feeling, you rascal, you
keep illusions alive
put on the face, he'll like this perfume
let my shell survive
apocalypse dreams are coming true

where & what could I be?
where & what could I be?
cause i'm a different person every week
try to use new words when I speak
listen up & down
till the words are only sounds.


'where and what could i be?" from Poe's The Pit and The Pendulum 

Put on the Face

Strapped by silk
Your wings flap
but keep you still in bed
And when I wake up
Tell me how it's been
What it's like upstairs 
With all your new friends:
Beckoning over the grasses
from a party in a tent.
It still lingers here today,
Moans of pleasures and dismay:
Our little secret with the night
And everything's right
so let your lips go and play
your handcuffs can stay.
All my time has been spent 
Pour me two more glasses
With a little bend 
one for the road and
one for the asterisks.
?        .    °                .
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.          .          .                      °                                                                                                         °               . 
        .         .               .                 .
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,,,,.,,,.,.,,.,,,....,,,....,,,....,,,..........,......
'"""'''""""‘’``'''``'’

Nocturne

Took me forever just to get here,
to the middle of nowhere
and now I'm talking to a broken mirror,
parrots flying from the zoo
what should i do?

Then she kissed me that it would be ok
and to look forward to the day
with both pleasure and dismay,
parrots flying from the zoo,
what should i do?

Flying from the Zoo

Yes, you are always so nice. So sweet and good. So warm a welcome, every time, yes, every hug, restarting this smile as if it were freshly cut from the trees, ripe and pure and warm to our form, to explore uncharted territory; but minds at rest, or as buoyant as fresh bed sheets, turning figures into soft marble, beautiful and noble, recreated in every moment, fresh, to exchange, to coexist in a shimmering stillness, showering skies or shouting in the distance, sharks and waves that in vain crash against our fresh tower, all futile, until they too are easy, until they find their home, to become fresh again, in oceans of easy grass or fields of flowers, over and over in and around our languid tower.

Drew

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