second thoughts
Golden breasted gods
come back so many times.
With halo's & flimsy robes
still smoking
throwing back a bunch
of pill & black
Johnny straight.
Letting go second thoughts
complicated memories
mouthed in
circles that gods are trapped
upon.
Disguised wrong directions
to shrines for
golden breasted gods
undressed
wet lipped in wait . Bronzed
delicate
plastic flowers . Gas lite candles
expose
the second thoughts that follow
like orange Sunsets. Hung
on visualized
Technicolor windows
appearing
at dawn. Golden
to touch.
If they didn't love you
they wouldn't
let you go.
deliver the juice
Well the water company
didn't call
about the leak. I
reported over
a month ago.
Its become a
conversational
piece . At least its
something REAL.
One thing I've learnt
reality sells . Bottle tears.
Photograph
the seconds of uncertainty.
Rim the rails
of reality . Deliver
the juices
of a maddening cry.
The water company wont
return my call. I checked.
The leak drips
a godsend of drops
before it will explode.
That's the reality
and it'll be devastation
only to me. They'll call
bye in the morning. If
I'm still sane . Who's
to say what bends
& what breaks inside.
My mind isn't focused
like I'm nineteen.
Frame imperfect images
adorning halls
of perfect people. Record
the Bell Air 1204
hissing through Blackwood
at dawn. Sell these things
to Poets and Lovers. They
long for a world paved
in historic vibes. Reality
shines to Lovers of words
that hold the tense
of a heart beat . Befriend
ramblings true
& as toxic promises
under a full moon.
Rim the rails
of reality . Deliver
the juice.
No one calls anymore.
Its so quiet.
in the UNDERGROUND - way out in Western Australia,
at a place covered in Madonal lilys called
Maragerett River
