Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Spring thaw (no Riffian)

flexures impossible
in dream
in narrative
the very same my cloudy afternoons repressed

that tiny exit behind my knee
I can no longer trace
sealed indoors
thirty one-Campus Solna

yet just over a hundred meters away
an underpass offers a wounded escape
calls for prayer bells, Tibetan

on either side insignificance
yet the aftermath of that specific digestion performed on an odd purchase
set me waiting for god in a pendular rush of nothing steps

an "ooo fuck " expression when I almost stepped on a dead rabbit
did you think this up you sick bastard?
or is it just the spring thaw

frowned on
dare you, stretch to that in your vile dreams
your hair locks are bound too thick for the archangel

1 comment:

LĂ©aud said...

physiology - indigestion - bubbles in your gut, precipitating in the head, the crown of the palpitations.