I wonder if we choose
cadillac shine with fingers to the keys and
or do the pistons lift and fall to the unseen?
Fingers filled and colored bright glued stationary
where they float push pull
GRASP reach tug despair
How they soar to the music and bleed into the camera,
emerge, wholly frac tured.
I try to wrap my head around that beauty, that strange
drama of pain, fulfillment, Joy. Driven determination.
They leech into my sleep.
Dreams skate across the wrinkled blanket and
fall into the abyss of sweet and fearful.
“Like a sparrow in his flitting, like a swallow in its flying,
a curse that is causeless does not alight.”
Proverbial sight pierces dark. Not proverbial until birthed,
right? I mean, the proverb started somewhere, get it?
Begin the beguine, trip the light fantastic
right down to the drive, the sit, the start, the do, the do, the do.
Was that really so hard? The barrier releases and the flood
OR trickles, trickles, trickles,
rains, splatters, downpours, floods;
OUT they spit, the letters, the a, the c, the qu, the z
after one, two, three Squat.
So, if outside, implore;
if inside, explore
else denying dry DIE crackle and Never have life.
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