am i speaking your language yet?
the promise begins at fashionably late
eases through with the clock pulsing
open window floating twitter-song
up stairs, down stairs
the floor is multi-culti lit lucite, the floor is hardwood
peter panning for gold
shout to be heard over shouting
not an issue of wrong making right
but more a slippery, gummy knee-jerk
we are not settled, not yet, not yet anyway
the joke begins at eighteen year old scotch
this is the oldest thing i've put in my mouth
it's not like when you're a child
and you say spoon
to make it lose meaning, just to see if you can
no
we pick up a phrase together
slip it in at the end of every sentence
and each time it gathers more meaning
until we can't say without losing it in laughter
ah what the cab drivers and rickshawallas of this spinning rock must think of us
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment