oh my, oh my, oh ma
so precious little time
and tender vittles falling
from feasting round tables still sitting,
your heart is tender
mainly wheels turning
and inability to taste
leaves scalding marks
on already sensitive skin.
tempted to turn and run
the case is never truly solved
by a judge with no heart.
so around the concrete campfire
you dance with bass drums
as loud and deeply growling as ever
and your love of dinosaurs
and a powerful tenderness you can’t touch.
I standing slowly
always through lenses
of immaculate conception
learning to taste
longing to ignite
she inviting all to dance
THE COUNTRY GIRL
how many dots
in a row must be drawn
in order for you to realize
the screen is capturing
the beautiful gift that is you
like a spinster pterodactyl
standing outside the abandoned
wall-street-mart bidding floor
you hoist yourself laughingly into
the sky cave remembrance machine
like two black cats kissing
the “I want to trade REAL names
within you function” gradually opens
like a budding rose,
a scent who’s timeless fragrance enters the human heart
to reveal the light that lay beneath.
the dismembered plastic arm of your cobra commander action figure
becomes a toothpick for your pet dragon
as antennae of pure gold sprout from your
well cared for head.
3 words are written on the inside
of your left eyelid
LET ME IN
and on the right lid
LET ME OUT.
She’s as country as a country girl could be,
even when she’s not holding her guitar
as real as the first time you took LSD.
like lightning flashes on the desert floor
that create crystalline flowers that transmit
and receive the messages of your mothers heart.
as well as professor keen-beam
who’s card is drawn to create the pods
of I’s for transmission.
The truth is simple
and profoundly potent
if you are claiming your bags in denver
go to carrousels 1, 5, and 8.