Tuesday, January 1, 2013


They say it dilutes in water
red specks of immortality
gone awry gone down gone
under piping gone mad mind
blurred in alcohol fireworks
and where's the tub that you
can barely see or the toilet
beside you--the drain--I can read the phantom
strands boiling to the surface
I can understand I can't understand
the bass meandering pounding plodding,


Remembering how it's like to faint--
or how heaven vibrates
at the frequency of angelic language
like harps on forever clouds--
but it's all where it is and where
it ain't and where what fuck where--

I hope I wake to see tomorrow.

1 comment:

  1. Ha ha. Awesome. I think I've been there, partially. Great translation of a hard-to-capture mood.