Hearts Have A Way
I beat forever my heart don't want to
what of this house in my throat
The sun beam broken on sea shine is the summer of things
Cephalopod dreams and champagne wishes
are sponges to the blood stains from the crime scene
Dune this but forget how to dune that
On the lighthouse downs the horses come rabbit
they antler and speak of the black mass with raspberries
At 3 o-clock exactly there will be apocalypse loons
I forever my beat don't want to heart
but hearts have a way they spleen themselves through
Showing posts with label octopus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label octopus. Show all posts
04 March 2017
29 April 2016
Poem-A-Day #60 : Surf's Up
Surf's Up
It is the age of the octopus -
of long form writing -
The age of golden fingers telling the internet their opinions
and then -
When the oceans rise will the AI still be given feminine names
and the faces of dead children?
In Santa Fe water takes over for the sand
There is an impulse to deny this is happening - that
the leverage of thumbs is just to damn great -
Suckers are not the grooves in flesh
they cannot feel warmth -
They splat on glass - they are easy to baseball bat into pulp
Perhaps it is best to only think-piece on this - we must turn to 4chan for help
the worry on the lips of the USB port cannot possibly convey
the concern of mountains becoming hills
of long form writing -
The age of golden fingers telling the internet their opinions
and then -
When the oceans rise will the AI still be given feminine names
and the faces of dead children?
In Santa Fe water takes over for the sand
There is an impulse to deny this is happening - that
the leverage of thumbs is just to damn great -
Suckers are not the grooves in flesh
they cannot feel warmth -
They splat on glass - they are easy to baseball bat into pulp
Perhaps it is best to only think-piece on this - we must turn to 4chan for help
the worry on the lips of the USB port cannot possibly convey
the concern of mountains becoming hills
16 March 2016
Poem-A-Day #16 : LV PM (OE)
LV PM (OE)
I want to lighthouse you
The ocean will do that beating against the shore thing it does and out there in the expanse some kind of octopus will wrap itself inside of an old soup can for shelter
Cream of mushroom most likely its always cream of mushroom
The tower isn't a metaphor for cock it isn't about sex not this time it's about illumination the kind with large letters drawn at the start of chapters the kind with doodles in the margins
I want to bedrock you
Put this down under foot that there is solidity in this and there is permanence and there is a big sky blowing up with clouds and wind
When the bomb of the sun hits the sky the darkness evaporates into rain
I spin in a circle my arm outreached the fingers are rays and everything they hit becomes highlighter and shadow they never burn out they are diligent in their touching
I want to lighthouse you
The ocean will do that beating against the shore thing it does and out there in the expanse some kind of octopus will wrap itself inside of an old soup can for shelter
Cream of mushroom most likely its always cream of mushroom
The tower isn't a metaphor for cock it isn't about sex not this time it's about illumination the kind with large letters drawn at the start of chapters the kind with doodles in the margins
I want to bedrock you
Put this down under foot that there is solidity in this and there is permanence and there is a big sky blowing up with clouds and wind
When the bomb of the sun hits the sky the darkness evaporates into rain
I spin in a circle my arm outreached the fingers are rays and everything they hit becomes highlighter and shadow they never burn out they are diligent in their touching
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