A skeletal inscription touches the layers
Of self-cynicism ... love
As an engraving on a marble sarcophagus
Are we not all ... deemed indifferent
In a freedom ... a freedom confused
In the warmest security
Of a woman to nurture ... love
To endure love ... its promised kiss
On both cheeks
With a concert tempo's mist
With promenade walks ... gaining momentum
With a genteel conversation and handshakes
A dream ... after the dream we all move
Through ... past the only moment ... that lingers on
When the melody of the themed movement
Is history and song ... and
So fucking what ... !
And you know
That you are not the only one
What happens when the services of words end
In the very last of the last stanza
Of the last line
Of love poetry and madness
Statues of ingnorance ... reveal themselves
As the soft chain is inhaled ... but
What has happend
What happens next ... ?
The highly crammed mind-fuck is over
Only the memory of fairytales
Lingers on ... and on ... and on
As your head is made into a safe
A safe for misunderstood psychosis
A truth found in art desolations
And suitors of unpublished volumes
Of thirds ... thirds in an empty city
The film carriages show invitation
To higher inconsistencies and taste
Where we write a memo to our
Short comings ... and
As love is engraved on a marble sarcophagus
As a record of where your love has been
Long after the history of your flesh
Is made dust
End
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment