LIKE SECONDS, SOME LONGER THAN OTHERS

THE SOUNDS DIVIDE TIMES IN CITIES 

AND PEOPLE PREPPED IN LAYERS AS

WOLFS IN CARPETS OF FRINGES,

TIME THEIR RUN INTO CHURCHES 

 

SOMETHING THAT COMES WITH AGE, AS BUTTER 

MELT THEIR THOUGHTS WHEN THEY ARE YOUNG

LIKE THEATRES BUILDING THEIR WORLDS ON BOOKS 

AND TOURISTS OF THEIR OWN YOUTH

 

I REMEMBER

WHEN HEARTS WERE FLOATING IN BUFFETS 

AND POWER WAS SOMETHING YOU FORGOT

BEFORE THE CHECK CAME  

 

NOW, THE WORLD IS RUN BY LIZARDS

COUGHING UP TIME FROM TALES ON VERSES 

THE SAME IN ANOTHER SETTING 

LIKE CRYING WALLS WAITING FOR THE OTHERS TO STOP

 

 

 

 

IT SEEMS THEY CHANGE THE DIRECTION ON ME 

AND SUDDENLY I’M WALKING BACKWARDS 

WITH MY EYES ON MY ASS AND NOT ON THE ROAD

AROUND, THE SUN IS GREY IN GREY

NOTHINGS CHANGED BUT THE WORDS 

TIME IS WEDNESDAY 

THE TONGUES ARE TUESDAY

 

COLLIDING RESTRUCTURED LANDSCAPES

RUNNING WITH THE ARROWS

BULLETS FROM BEHIND

TUNING ON TO COUNTRIES 

TARGETING PAVEMENTS  BUILT ON IDEALS IN CHANGE OF IDEAS 

I PADDLE BETWEEN CONSTRUCTED TRUTHS AND PLASTIC 

THEY, LAYER THE SOUNDS OF ARRANGED EMPTINESS 

PUT THERE TO WALK THE DOG WITH THE HORSE

 

HUMMING MAN EATER IN THE TOILET

THE LANDS SEEM TO CHANGE IN CLOSED EYES 

LIKE FLASH IN SUNLIGHT

GLORY WHAT’S ON THE OUTSIDE 

QUESTIONING THE INSIDE

I’M CYCLING THROUGH THE TREES 

WHERE THE DEGREES RECEDE

 

THEY LOOK THE SAME, LIKE HOUSES

IN ANOTHER SETTING 

EMBRACING SLEEP, EXISTING WITHOUT NIGHT 

A TONE IN TUNE WITH THIS TIME JUST ABOUT BREATHES

THE FORCE OF THOUGHT

 

COMFORT CREATURES 

VOTING WITH THEIR FEET AND WALK AWAY 

THEIR SOUNDS ARE CROOKED TACTS

SLOW AND THE WORLDS ON LOAN

YOUR HANDS ARE SUDDEN AND OUT OF SIGHT

THEY PILE UP, THE LANDSCAPES OF DISHES

BEAUTIFUL AS PATTERNS ON LACES

THEY REVEAL THE MEANING FROM BRANCHES 

IN TREES OF TRAVELS, MORSING THE NUMBERS OF TIME

INTO LINES OF DOTS WHILE CLIMPING THROUGH VAINES 

AND SHARP COLD GLITTER, AS THEY CARVE THEIR LANGUAGE 

OF CONTROLLED DEMOLITION WITH A KNIFE 

AND ICE THE HEARTS FOR FUTURE REFERENCE 

 

IMPENETRABLE BEATS BREAK THE CORE OF HIS SURFACE

DRIPPING FROM WORDS SLIPPING AS THEY PLUG THEIR THOUGHTS 

COLD ENOUGH TO SEE MY BREATH AND CRAWL DOWNSTAIRS   

LEAVING A MARK ON THE FLOOR.

 

YOU SLEEP BETWEEN THE LINES, IN FABOLOUS STAINS 

OF BROKEN NAILPOLISH. I CATCH THE DREAMS

THEY THROW FOR SCRAPS LIKE ORGANIZED POLES 

OF PLASTIC REALITY ALWAYS PRESENT WITHOUT LISTENING.

 

HALF AWAKE, PRESING ONE EAR TO THE SPEAKER 

DRIPPING FAKE EMPIRES ON TO SURFACES