Monday, September 21, 2009

prayer. notapoem.

these streets will make you feel brand new
big lights will inspire you

____Empire State of Mind, Jay Z

rosas swimminginmilk

good morning dear whatever-the-hell-you-are(wanna be), just so you know if i feel the need to fall asleep again, 12 days of where-the-ever-hell-am-i? sitting on my couch all the time not really caring to leave the house under blankets and a quiet perfection solitude like waves of secrecy, dark and folded and thrilling like womanity beheld naked lost amidst myself like labial folds, then i will.will.will! __and when i wake up, and dear god look at this afternoon how perfect it is! the colours perfect behind sunglasses (always a little truer to form if life is tinged in sepia or magic - reality being the colour of sidewalks and not much use for anything at all) and the wind soo much my sails are full my lungs are laundry hung out on the line my discipline forgotten i have fourteen-hundred-words for anyone who wants tea-orangejuice-a drive from herethere to nowhere, i can make love for four hours straight i promise keep the window open let them hear it: isn't this what spring always sounded like it's this sound + sun that wakes every leaf blossom the colour green itself was invented under the buttocks of love-made-lovers,
these are my windows, darkshine or sunshine they're open come summerwind - molester or winterrain i ain't going nowhere my eye's darker than anything i've seen you pull dear whatever, and no mid sunday afternoon, no December 14th 2006, no December 25th 2007 worth of a tragedy car accident late train to what-the-hell-am-i-gonna-do-with-my-life? is gonna scare me i been there done that,
woke up 14 times dead resurrected and bruised broken blownaway battered beated blasted brown bitten and blemished and branded by bastard behemoth named LifeLifeLifeLife and each time looked at the dead-curious-cat rotting away right beside me, woke up and polished my Lazarus eyes and unwrapped myself hand and foot and removed nails from wrists and ankles and laughed my death to the bank to redeem whatever blue-chips i'd earnt and drank tea instead of ale and everytime a tanned too-perfect-for-humanity girl walked past me prayed 14 more times for the next cataclysm dear too-perfect-for-humanity-girl, dear too-perfect-for-humanity- afternoon wind, dear ridiculous-nonesense-hiphop-tune-that-makes-me-dance-around-like-a-buffoon, dear LA, dear blueberry muffin, dear C-cup breast, dear Lord WhatWhoEver Thou be-ist who do-ist what Thou will-est, Thou art totally kick-ass (Awesome) and Thou knowest best-est how to rockest my boat-est and my heart goes doofdoof beepbeep haha! to wind of Thy wind and the sight of sunset and movie-premiers and 4 ridiculous shafts of light outside of LAX when you drive in from Sepulveda,

today is the pinnacle of every Q that ever was the redemption of every Q that ever failed the reconsideration of every missed-phonecall-loneliness i've ever know,

dear world, i have nothing but open windows for you
nothing but old not-quite-functional grammar for you
nothing but patched skin and delirious madness in my insane mimbrain for you
nothing but dancing ravished body but dancing still, and hey guess what i'm gonna do tomorrow? i'm gonna wake and scream and laugh and finish school and get jobs and make love and fall in love and roll over out of love and eat apples i picked off trees and get sick and have diarrhea and laugh playing video games and moving to anywhere and buying a vintage car coloured bright red and roofless and blasting stupid music anyone should be embarrassed to like(LOVE) and stand up on my seat in unmoving traffic with a sky full of smoker's-lung-pollution and have 8 dollars to my name (5 in one pocket, 3 hidden in a shoe) blasting out of buzzing and terrible speakers, knowing nothing but that i'll die again (and again) (and again) in every imaginable future - there's not a path for me god/life can pick that i'm not gonna run down to my failure and throwing two bold middle fingers up while cracking up the whole time screaming TTHHAANNKKYyyyyoooouuuuu facing the whole time certain oblivion and thinking nothing could be more wonderful than that,

f*ck me dear life i'm going for a jog.

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