So, back to the hidden chamber again
it has always been between you and me
headlights shoot towards this dot between the eyes, dark, persevering –
between the blade and the neck,
between the rifle and the serenade –
grotesque, weeping –
puppets ride out to win the world tonight.
Mama’s new bakery
it’s never ever too late
Tramcars of yolk and honey
Mornings on my plate
At times I read Lorca
and at others I masturbate.
Child, I’ve told you of valleys that’ll never be
and of breezes that won’t whisper ancient tales of longing
except when the moon goes down on all of it
and inside our secret pact, hidden safely from the ready world.
somewhere down the dusty trail we’ll see a mad city burning
and half-charred humans & dogs running amok.
I haven’t lied to you
I must go far away tonight.
down the streets, fifteen blocks
lived an old man in a dark room
at the end of a dark alley
his skin was wrinkled and he played the violin cold & sharp through frozen spines
once, when the lights were out
and a sweaty night jumped from trashcan to trashcan like a blind cat in hot pursuit,
he took his violin, walked out of the alley straight into the street
he poured kerosene on the timber and he lit it with a matchbox
that had a little girl in a polka-dot frock holding an apple and smiling on one side
and ‘Vivre se Vie’ written on the other
it burnt, brave and lonely
like candles on coffins of the losers and the lost.
certain flowers trap insects and eat them up when hungry
certain sharks arrive on dreams and ask for their lost kingdom.
Ghosts of dead sailors come out tonight
Most of them have holes in their pants
all of them have salt in their breath
as music of death pours out of their skin
they ask me the way to the saloon
I won’t reply
I am not one of them
and I’m not afraid of ghosts either.
Gasoline sonata! Gasoline sonata!
You ate a quarter of the moon
you needed the river’s wine to gulp it down
your dialectics of effervescence
your gratitude to the cauliflowers
what eyes! what phantasmagoria! what great grand symphony!
but I can’t love you,
because you lied to me when you said that paperboats go where all dreams go when it rains in the mountains far away
and because you have no flesh.
I kiss you in my mind’s eye
there’s love in the streets
there’s music in the sky
and in this dim-lit room
flowers that wilt elsewhere
hide their faces & bloom
you kiss me in my mind’s lips
we play the music soft
and then I touch your hips
and in this dim-lit room
children stabbed by monsters
light cigars & laugh at doom
thus here’s music, cigars, flowers and laughter
so let’s make a lot of love tonight
and make more of it the morning after.