Wednesday, September 1, 2010

disturbing the dust


she rolls back on her head
the cactus cutting her soft hands
the blood pours out into the mouth
of the river, full of fish

at the bottom among
the bones of the dead animals
in between the moss covered
rocks she fills her hot mouth
full of river water

she is sick of everything
he is calling her from glasgow
on his cell phone. his name is
lit up in silver in her pocket

she feels like she is going crazy
she wishes that this could be
the last show of the earth
before forever arrives

tonight beams are blinding her
she feels nothing but knows
he is out there somewhere
the super trouper.

shinning
shinin' like the sun
smilin', havin' fun feeling
like a number one

1 comment:

heath said...

Very nice, Bob...Very nice.

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