Lights can dim to an amber-red.
Afterglow akin to the glimpse of tawny skin,
touched slow, the Sun's combustible cuddle.Salted fish before the hangover,
and I've forgotten how to sweat.
How many nights are we, combined?
eyes nose mouth-
and,
i was banging on your door but no one answered.
so, i went for a drive and ran into this girl descended from a
germanic tribe.
and we went for a frosted shake, chocolate and rum, while still
driving in the sun.
and met a man in a van with an glamorous hypothalamus, and he
said, "son, you need to grow a chin
and jab it at the sky." and then the visigoths retreated and i was
left
alone and undefeated...
so i headed further down this bold black tarmac,
melting under continuous curves and fading afternoons, singing:
"Basho, Basho
how does your haiku grow?"
but he never answers
and the volume always rises to a yell:
"i bless 5% of the Americas
and 5% of the Europas
and 5% of the Africas
and i bless 5% of the right as
to the middle as
to the left as
and i bless 5% of the musicians
and 5% more for the listen
and 2% for you
to color in distraction
with a mixture of red, east and western blue."
and the moon's slow echo responds...
"let's descend tragic on this summer night.
let's get dressed in silent arms.
pressed against the wind that's pure again.
let subtle lips like porcelain pout then pucker.
everyone stop crying now.
the poetry is about to begin."
----
mht.