Wednesday, October 12, 2005

all of this sunlight is making lovers just plain batty


the saturday sun is lamented by lovers
an owl and he consider this to be
a protest of radishlips and cinema seats
cinnamon seeps into the sinners retreat
speaking so softly to the cinema screen
simple black streets and the simply discreet
cylinder scene and the salinger... script

script... ripped right out from the pageant of our lives
stripped like salt from the ice in her eyes
tripped out on fault as the rips in her pride
hope that salingers script laments the lift of the sun
her child's left hip dents the sifting in the lung
the lining of the lung rents the rendering of guns
that are firing from the tongue a fiery sounding of songs sung