Sunday, July 12, 2015

for all these beautiful people

what we had wanted – silence, through the centuries of el dorado,
discreet charms of the bourgeoisie, saturnine –
but the streets are full of gold and blood
cities fill with lonely people – all we had yearned for become little tattoos
and dangle down the cheeks of forever – 
where bugles dream of rice and love,
soldiers dream dreams that rich people dream – of increments and royalty,
blue blood flowing like wine through blue glasses,

but if I get love I will break the blue glasses
I will pee on the blue wine
and stand by the banks of the Nile
and wave my wand made of freedom
and stand at the brink of all beginning and end
and wave my flag made of dreams
and maybe do a little jig or two on the sides with Rumpelstiltskin who loves me,
who feeds my soul.

No comments: