Monday, July 19, 2010

Motives/Circle of 5ths



You move like a worry
The popular word for warrior becomes order or turbulent
as the tenor man mercilessly hits the canopy in the 4th octave (mon amour, my armor, no more
my throat constricts around something primal, a candidate for rhyme
or regret, but not this time, but not this time, but not this time

A melody coming through, with dignity and quick elbows, move out of the way, take the safety with you, of cloth
and rent. Lifeline, it is untrue. It has cost you this cardiogram and you are panicking, looking for blue landmarks on a blue map

The wall began to crack into the sound of your horn then, to give way, to smile itself apart of you needs me to be impossible so I can walk through walls with the same obnoxious rigidity they use to walk through you

The circle at the beginning of your name is a shackle my wrist fits through with enough space left to spell the gateway the ghettoway you recognize it, Baby, I don't care how you get here, your variegated states of possession are on display in this broken basement
And all I ever got out of it was dissipation. Just a mask on a card
In disastrous accordance with my luck, We'll get lucky, It's not a question of understanding it, if you feel it/if you feel it
And your risk gets less and less fancy, more and more substantial, and the elm that spells the lover's names in roots