Whereforto Ye Wanderers

Whereforto Ye Wanderers.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010


there is a roadside
of which i hug nice and tight
and bluing
the climb
that got me thinking
about gettin' down anyhow
staring at something
til i cannot forget
a tree, bare
as naked babies
bare as my soul
unleashed unto the night.
at the edge
of all sketches
there's a pyramidal
of transcendental color
yellowing, greening
bluing, bluing
hatching inklings
traceable and untraceable
oh, i am a prisoner of the prism'd
pre-nocturnal moonlight
e'er recurring bluenight
all's i got is the image
burning, and bluing
at the teary corner of
the mind's eye.
someone's holding up a candle
to the wall
making hand gestures
i cannot depict
it must be death
it must be the eternal holding of god's cigarette breath.
it must be me,
oh it must be me.
i have looked
at the backs of mirrors
hoping to find my other existance,
i have punched in walls
trying to defend myself against the ghosts;
they's blue and i's blue-
all in the face, all squawking
mantras bout bluing
and doing
every everything wrong, though
we's perfect, baby
blues is perfect baby
don't miss a beat
do not look away
while i'm bluing and gluing
my hands to my face
while the ghosts do the same
ain't we all dead yet?
ain't it all over with?
the side of the road
and i do a quick
one, two,
bottom of the
getting a pin-prick
pen pricks paper
cup swallows up my blues
swallow up yr doings baby,
swallow up this bluing baby
cause we's got a long
way to go yet..

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