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a synaesthete visitsthe city is blank as smoke, spiced with charcoal & chamomile, dog & old poison and the endless trenches of the wind stoking the sun's sentenceless hiss or throb in this old factory, serene & full of new echoes.a synaesthete visits
there's an atmosphere away from this that surrounds you in space. taller & smaller. where a yellow tenement house hoists the ladders of its blank, living girth
a landscape of scents delivers its halo in patches, still-life hurricanes of simple things.
translucent flies have their carnivals in this green swelter that sits cool in ankle-deep wate
by ~root-kite
noon's loomsnoon's looms string loose taut bones, and set fire to the stones in the street's roofless rooms.noon's looms
noon's looms spin nuclear & worn, and blare their bloated horns over clear, lazy fumes―
trees are opening the palms of their hands, with their lines of fate borne low with the waiting leaves' weight, & drawn on the noon-air's sand.
birds are screaming and surprise themselves with their leaps & caresses & fights; their wings are still much too bright, and the winds are collapsing shelves.
men in the road are all clear as
by ~root-kite
fire, or waterwere this blurred, we'd be submerged, stuck under the waves with warping colours & corals falling away from a certain blue surface, where white animals are climbing. hot & cold climb the same ladder into the eye and we see everything sharper:fire, or water
today there are sky-flags, halfway tattered. browns & sea-thinned greens, then reds & great flames are traditional but the starving stag, steaming in the cracked courtyard says blue is autumn's secret favourite, the colour of bruise & ozone & iris.
a leaf can fall like a cracke
by ~root-kite
Favourites
cosmodrone.-cosmodrone.
i want to swallow volcanic glass, choke on a memory, watch a ricochet of faces blend into something i can never get back
shoot for the stars, .38 sandcastle burying my tongue, holding still the voice i never had
the heart i always wanted is bright as the gases of neptune, curling her tiny fingers around rib, drinking her tears to survive.
i was once human, now i walk like a ghost, one ankle shattered to a cat's cradle of bone, the other leg chained to the ground
you should know, i was never meant to have wings, my organs kept f
by *rottenpeeches
Fraumerz 218gby ~woefoep
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ROOOOOOOOOTTT KIIIIIITTTTEE
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
Now you can buy my book here!--------->>> [link]
--
You never push a noun against a verb without trying to blow up something. - H.L. Mencken
like old times, no?
thanx 4 fv
--
I itch & pain all over
with hate of time &
tedium Save me!
Kill me!
-an observation
I'm thinking about joining the french foreign legion.
--
I tell you such fine music awaits in the shadows of the fires of hell. -Charles Bukowski
Now you can buy my book here!--------->>> [link]
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