surrealist description***

-way-

Sincerely your phantom,

except for your hollowed bouquet, I can’t smell. Everything is touchy and with glad eyes. I must be verging on the edge of the rainbow bed. My sheets are all flying and your smell is too weary to cling on. It will be lost and with it your short story. The kissed time, we had little. A stench owl spooked and whoosh, I’m rolling, waving around the rainbow bed again, so close to the edge.

I’m the kid pilot now. I’ve got nothing to prove but that I can fly the rainbow, smell or stopping smell. The wind is rising beautiful sheets of air strung pearls. The rainbow waves back and I splash around with scentless orchid lights, shooting stardust into my velvet lined eye. I arrive inside out so that I don’t have to breathe in, just out.

Vacancy smell, I’ve beat your crawling way. Dear little stink quiche, I’ve got you there. The smell is still a phantom limb, you think its there. I know about rainbow beds and about losing touch without losing. Losing you when I don’t need to, that’s a phantom.

I’m boasting but now that I’ve got those tactile colors, I want your bouquet in my head again. Come sink me again in the rainbow and nothing will be touching my eyes. Your spiced drag could anchor me back and save me from losing the only thing I have

the faint pinch I have on our,

rainbow bed.

say what? surrealist list imatation.

-a recipe of faces that look like spanish peanuts in the raw-

i memorize faces, and wave at someone, who is my sister.
i memorize a face that looks nothing like a friend and I am reminded of a friend.
i memorize what the face would look like if it were my friend's, it's behind a bus window.
i memorize who the face might look like in two, ten, fourthy, then three years, it's all different, i can't speak of year's, of birth.
i memorize the face and imagine it's construction, and i sour my throat with an uprising lime. birth is sick, but pregnancy is fun, and hot.
i memorize faces, all have ear. all have eye. all have holes. it's like a flight log. easy to do. take off, flight and the landing. landing is the easiest of all.
I memorize them, but faces are just rotten to begin with.

a face in the mirror is a grave or its mutton. look in all the holes there,
take a bite, and cut the cut bigger, finger it bigger for your face to fit.
i lose my face in there and forget what i learned.

i memorize mark twain saying Hey!
i memorize mark twain saying humans are potential!
i memorize tarzan singing, the cannoneers, with hairy ears, on wiry whiskers, used tin shears, until they found, a face.
i memorize tarzan singing, ________(hebrew)________(chinese)________(greek), the best shave, in any language, a face.
i memorize one more from memory, some shit on dead chick in the street. we all give her a farewell toe and i am reminded of the face again.

the one face i memorized. the only one, the face behind the bus window.
right then mark twain toes the rotten girl, face down and says Hey, tarzan! remember this one?
this cream, makes the, gardener's daughter, plant her tu-lips, where she oughter.

its the one.

When lost telephone wire is left

it whirs,

plinks, splinks - a finger rip.

Fish hook music,

needle cuts in-

plays. Wonk - swaying

coyote hammers bobbing, old girl.

Could’ve twitched, lost reception

and the wires left starched

taught on rye, lids of eye to lip to cheek

Taught across ten thousand clothes lines

torn and yellow skin made to pluck

and sew, wire stories, books

and sails on fountains …

My mistress has no way

of knowing I have a wife, shaped on the other

end of the string

good morning christopher!

good morning christopher
we're outrunning yer photographer
who's taken artistic poliroids
i was makin with a magazine
you were tellin me all about yer dreams
you say christ had been here before
i say christopher, its been discovered before
so we paid 22 americans to a drop-eyed thief
the train conductor blew his smoke to me and said
"that boy dont need a shrink, he needs a priest"
so i lit a match and burnt the rest of my cash in my hat
and looked out the window of the train
and the roman soldiers were a' comin' fast
so you stuck yer head out the window and said

Pilot eyes
i cant decide
to love or to die
i cant decide
to love is to lie
to die is to lie
i cant decide, you cant decide, we cant decide

so we hopped out the window into poppy fields
fell down asleep, my heads the fool on the hill
we chewed up the leaves in the bottom of the tea cup
ate up our fortunes to turn it into luck
but the dag that we ate crawled back through my lips
and the plant that we smoked puffed out my eye lids
spelling a message to us in the cloud over us
"go back to the womb -- get out of us!"
so i looked in yer face, it was covered in moss
vines covered yer arms, your feet began to be lost
in the flowers and your hair flew off yer bald head shining
and you spread out yer thighs and said "its safe in here,
but its time to decide, this is how you can love with the lie
or this can be the way to lie down and die
discover a place that you've been to before
but drink up new death, lie like before
curl up yer arms and up root yer legs
decide to love and lie or to lie and to die
learn to see through your pilot eyes.

Pilot eyes
i cant decide
to love or to die
i cant decide
to love is to lie
to die is to lie
i cant decide, you cant decide, we cant decide