But not how to lay in them—
The first skyscrapers bulge and sway—
We take the penthouse by freight
And fire marshals get paid.
Fuck VIP, we’re high, we’re backstage.
Bringing in the new millennium proper—
a decade of drugs—
Each one of these years we take forever
Straight into our veins forever…
Cocaine! Cocaine! Cocaine!
(We’re begging you)
Give us more time for selfloathing.
Faster! Faster! Faster!
We can’t fit enough chemicals on.
Throw wind into our hair,
Our faces, our veins…
It passes through hollow filaments
Flagella and not much else.
Twitching in the Petri dish, the drink, the city
Like every night we’re praying:
Where’s the next party at:
Dancing and drunk, couch lounging and stoned—
Restless and not much else because
Tonight is not like last night is not like last night…
Searchlights lead here! Spotlights lead here!
Epidemic: suicide by jumping
But the beat keeps thumping.
Chandeliers, cocktails, gala girls, after parties
In bank vaults underground
With the steaming metros and teaming masses,
Steaming skin and the finest hashes.
We dive into smoke-filled pools
And coma dreams you don’t dare remember.
We’re already underwater,
In the city,
Swimming from deep experience to deep experience
While photographs laugh
And die without moving.
Ya, all the facebooks in the world
Couldn’t document the horror—
The parties and the poses—
Take the freight elevator down
So we stay underground,
Fuck slowly,
And drink 40s in the als
While they talk and spit on human animals.
CO2 Emissions waft gently into the sky
Like Spanish galleons in some virgin Caribbean.
Machete of time,
Tracing the paths I’ve cleared away,
In an infinite labyrinth of dead ends.
And it’s lonely too—
Reaching for truths I never felt before.
The City The Party The Photo
I commented on the hip hop rhythmics first time around, i like it. Like the colors, working on something involving color myself. The first two lines could go or lose the accusatory touch by rephrasing, it directs too much, show don't tell, right. I like this poem more this 2nd time around, which is a good sign, there more to get from it. I see the peeling, as i call it, of the mind, the intellect, understanding and becoming restless from it, the boredom, the city city city, and it spirals. That's the artist, and the subject is mankind, always. The picture is rich and works well with the poem. I will come back to this again, right now I have to leave.
ReplyDeleteyou pull me into your lap
ReplyDeletebehind my head went your hand.
you are the idea man,
i'm not yours, but you can.
I'll take a look at those first few lines. I thought of them as a sort of promemium, but you're right, the mood is pretty different.
ReplyDeleteOne of my inspirations is the idea of a carousel, i tried to keep it rhythmic, but you can see it turning into a confessional.
The colors are extracted directly from a German sunset.
I think most sunsets contain those colors
ReplyDeleteJust German ones, as far as i can tell...
ReplyDeleteLovely!
ReplyDelete<3
ReplyDelete