Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.

Saturday, March 20, 2010

on drugs by the river.

upon the last wreck
of the last rock
of the last crescent
sits the last moon
by firelight
an exploding shell
aimed at yr face
there sits the dull thrum
of curious bodies
enfixed upon each other and each other.
time does the same
bunk like words
stupidly clasped.
the web
is vast and endless.

we are here to give metaphors for yr poetry they said
and walked on.

on the last arm
from the final tug of desire
i am caught jackin off
with hands and fingernails,
an improbable artform
the shift b'w shards of light
a generalized reality
and desired
coursing with the river's fur
and missing none
long dead muses
resurected speech shards.



where the fuck art thou amerikkkas
caught in an island sized garbage dump
melting in improbable atlantics,
yr despair is beyond that you sonofabitch
yr wind blows sterile and mineralless
amerikkka disaster!!!!!!
as dark forms drown into the river of life if only to breathe again and again
an elaborate hallucination of reality.
onwards ye dark forms immersing in such
we have come to give metaphors for yr poetry!
goonwards young man
as the dark forms of the waterfall
follow me cross the room
i am forgotten
more or less
'xcept for my bones
which are blown to stew
for the wind-
blown mind.
we have forgotten
this sense of place,
where did it go
where will we go
where shall we be
where are we
among the snakes
of desire
hiking into oblivion
with bloody bootprints
and silence on red bootheels
following the boothills
to ne'er more where shall we go
from the last
of the last word
there sits a last kiss
and a last complete thought
savagely reckless
on the last rock
above the last war
on the last day
there sits the last man
who hears a last invisible knock
on the last invisible door.
where the fuck is the ghost?

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