Monday, February 14, 2011

The Boundary of History

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O, limelight you ail
coughing whores and imbeciles
hands in chains waving
wands of lost
navies, glowing above mildewed pianos
hiccup whispers,
"tonight's the night,
tonight's the niiiight."
enter the heart
and turns with
feeble hair hanging
beneath himself
he beats a sleepy time,
slowly, slowly
while the sailor finger
sprawls once more
spread-eagle on the mirror
shores of light.


extreme eyes
laughing matters
who ties snakes together
to make sentences of lost names
the young pass by,
"these knots are knots of error"
they seem to say

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