Friday, December 20, 2013

Karma and Charm

When it gets too quiet on the ledge of the night, we become pure pleasure, write a hybrid of moan and jeer and accept neither but both as a clearing, hear your waveform brave the dubious intervals between will and pose, high up on a hill, so high and mellow. Just now, I'll lie and say that I'm satisfied. Everything's real. Everything's true. Is that another mink on the silver screen. My vanity floods with phantoms and callers I could just prance around like this til dawn and I just might crawl into bed with another jazz.. Just then, the president shook Cuba's hand. You don't see them blaming Beyonce. You don't see me answering questions in public. What did the slave say to the other slave? We should start a band. We should play for freedom.