Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Status Quo



Split mine dim age
is Dis' hymn? bow-tied?

Big sirs frame d a glass t in loo k anigh t wrap
b'tween us cull and a whirl    d war fed s kills unfulfillèd longings
looking long in and out of wind

oh

eye-soul broken bodies
bits 'n bytes off hiss
the man a man again? is
the mannequin a man?

One dollar
eight

for all those

chemicals

in a body

Whose?

Bloody
wish
is hiss
NO SHUNS NAY SHUN’S state of
mind less man and his dawg God o- ffensive LIES
along time N E U T E R E D !

Terirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr's retired
(carier's re-tarded!)
A FRAMIT! BE, DAMMIT,
See? I'll

Split

 the wave s an d rift would pit dis t'ing against the other
and in the sound that crashes, crushing thought,
time as tide would (sand as sun would)
send, transcend, would stop
the rocky slide in space.

To pull the chord that arcs the moon,
To stretch a skin across a forest's good
divining wood—what rod could tell what water would
well regulate the wynde and bonde of heart's inner pace
to set a space where crystals could form ice in air and split
the eye with star shine  blitz.

© 1985, 1990, 2012 Dan Goorevitch