Rain/sun
ransom
It rained some
I ran some
Just as rain relieves atmospheric tension making all the buds burst open : :
The Futurists were staging World War Infinity in Carnegie Hall. Packed the place, and got great reviews.
The Mythscience was in Egypt and Italy: Silence, looser silence and most sins aren't crimes
Soldiers woke from comas and thought they were in the theater, not knowing weather to play the heroine or kill the heroine
General mayhem, generic confusion, a sharpness but inconclusive
forgetting protects the memory but we can't
or is it the imagination it protects or does remembering happen in the body
The neat, neat bundling together of nerve :: drums
on your feet or on your knees but we can't
keep from flying now that the mines exist Yes, I'm coming back, Black Dada Nihilismus, I always was
showing you where the edge is not quite
Silence, the only propaganda relentless enough for maggots, and dense motherfuckers, look up, the airplane overhead, the ice machine, the
slicing of bus breaks
loveless sex, falling buildings, listen ::: things you thought were sensual are just sensational, over-disclosed like the numb logo on your t-shirt, either you don't care or you do, but either way you're wearing it which isn't very demure, to remember
that's not silence, I can hear you listening barefoot in the sterile mud of your mind
Silence is a kind of time, a rhythmic aria
from between edges and bridges, tourniquet for the double hipness of the sun is that it ran with me, and the same for returning
Some evenings, the data monkey and the dada money break even
the hearts of black cops just about to raise a baton to cheerlead for the team that pays them, and they just start to weep, and sob, and weep
