What a presumptuous fool I was to rail against those previous sunrises. Me and my petty prizes. What the hell did I know at all before last night? These are words picked out of the blown apart remnants of a slipping mind. Risen and reverberated, he sits now atop the very clouds that rain upon so many parades. Parades were never meant to be watched. That's the best time to go on all the rides. I laugh at the sleeping city sidewalks this sunday morning, and I ain't never coming down from this cloud. It's taken me all this time to find out something or another. Is any of this real? Was any of it ever real? Am I lying doped up in some hospital bed? Am I dreaming every second of this? If so, I'd better make the most of it before they cut off my intravenous love serum. In my experience, there's no such thing as luck, but I'm riding this gift horse into the sunset. Ciao!
Twenty-Nine While Nine:
To the list of things I've broken, let me add the silence. I can no more hold this tongue or stay these fingers than they can stay with and hold you. Secret agents of fortune, in covert overnight operations, drink deep of shaken stirred synaptic fluids. Oddly awed, the star-shocked shell stays still in soggy slumbered sheets. My lightning chopsticks no longer perform their magic act of snatching perfect phrases out of the air. Without a well-lubricated ear to whisper these words within, are they still sweet, or are they merely nothings? Let my body recover from the trauma of interplanetary travel. Lovely little nurse, you shared water with me before you knew what hit you. How hard have you been sucked into this void? Can you reach my hand? Can you pull me free?
To the list of things I've broken, let me add the silence. I can no more hold this tongue or stay these fingers than they can stay with and hold you. Secret agents of fortune, in covert overnight operations, drink deep of shaken stirred synaptic fluids. Oddly awed, the star-shocked shell stays still in soggy slumbered sheets. My lightning chopsticks no longer perform their magic act of snatching perfect phrases out of the air. Without a well-lubricated ear to whisper these words within, are they still sweet, or are they merely nothings? Let my body recover from the trauma of interplanetary travel. Lovely little nurse, you shared water with me before you knew what hit you. How hard have you been sucked into this void? Can you reach my hand? Can you pull me free?
