Saturday, September 30, 2006
like a ghost.
like rock or stone.)
scraps fell from the curvaceous talon-wielder gay horace the yellow sun.
the sun spilt red cherry product it rained down splat splatterly.
onto the head and the shoulder.
it was in the sky though.
it was sunset. there was a glow
the hills were loadbearing they were like blackened pachyderms.
there may have been
and boy how i loved
hey down a down down
lovers were fucking in the bushes,
amongst the wheat so stiff and gold
above my rooty head. puffed and tanned skins blushing
like bilious and nodding poppies.
it was spring.
juices on the ground and inside it.
there was some contact spillage and some yellow screaming,
hey down a down down.
it was the weather.
and i loved you in the dirt.
i sat atop and under rocks
and loved you, red and black persephone.
Posted by sra at 1:50 PM