not sure about anything except everything and
where do we go from here, fields of whoah
spreading in the palace of my belly, intoxicating
the limbs the veins the heart the percussion
surrounding the instinct with so many worlds
playing bumper cars in my universe and only so much
time allowed for this many carnival tickets, i wonder
what awaits beneath the canopy of the next lifetime, and
the cool shoulder-in huddle of and the barely lit postcard 0f an evening
at a quiet winter beach just stepped
into my head
for no reason.

i get
distracted
like that.

but back here in Venice making mix tapes or cd's
what year is it and what new world have we created to thank
this new god, or any new gods not scared by the worship of them, and my
black cat is fine with all of this, knowing the engine of my love
typically blasts far beyond the polite or acceptable standards for emission upon
this road, but we are not on the most traveled road are we, and a delicate
hammock of strings in the song that is now playing just threw me
onto a beach somewhere on a Tuesday at 4:38 pm, swirled in tropical
overcast and a life purposefully forgotten for a full crucifix-lengthed full body stretch
in the sand in a grey-rained paradise brush stroked with raw violet
and fluorescent tangerine sunsets and
sorry.

i get
distracted
like that.