Celestial standings in waiting lines of star dust
gritty with irritation, a little heart-felt swinger flew
into the rings of a saturn like sky
hitting some invisible ozone
bursting like fireworks
he gave us something to oooh and ahh for
Jostle me from my writer's block
give me reason to not jump this planet
and find me some different air to breath
I am a wandering piece of energy
changing degrees and patterns
fluctuations bursting through seams
A word sits, bright on my desk
like a little star it shimmers
I reach for it and place it here with the rest
and it wiggles into another meaning
wiping my sentences confused
The little image making time in this cluster of words that chafe to scatter
is you and I covered in the dust of a star we rolled in
intent on a different kind of satisfaction
our fronts our fingers
our backs our hair
we rolled there sweaty and wet
we laughed because we didn't need air
Scuff my boots on the rocks of planets that light up like crackling logs
in a universe telescopes haven't yet created
I will always be here, there
grey dust boots and hands in pockets
searching for those wiggling words that jumped and hid.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Bitch, are you gonna publish or what?
This goes especially well with the swirlys.
should i bother to say this is some good shit, or will you write me off as a tainted reader? which i suppose i am, but not blinded by it.
tanks...bimbo I wanna
desmerelda the magic making cuff weaver, is this the 'head in the toilet' kind of swirly?
piston, I totally respect yer opinion, even if we're havin the sex...
Post a Comment