Creation Records
As evening shifts with a drink the receptive warmth of a spike resembling flesh fills my ass the faded resolution of a Morrisroe photo distressed by hand deliberately altering the picture Opie’s circle of jocks punk as a hollow boy a boy as an Iron Maiden T as in Tiger Beat or bored sub urban Eisenman portrait fading in cigarette smoke the first star gone supernova then a hole in what’s left of real adventure where we begin after the fact as the last frontier flows outward in a stubborn leak of secrets a day’s worth of lube loose fractal of totality spinning deep inside my guts and spilling out oblique song whose lines travel the duration time and space and back again to meet us wherever we might find ourselves beneath a distant sun which for a moment gives reliable light to hunt the surfaces pattern the sensual fullness of the day to day decline or tontine pact of survival stirring the base energetic blood oceans rising in clouds great floods of it born up in history or myth as all the names changed to protect the innocent, the fantasy memory becomes like a dream ‘leatherbound in my feathered hand’ meaning I couldn’t imagine what this life would actually look like after so many years of dreading it the smell and texture of routine day in day out a braid drug through a lightless place returning with a smudge of shit and floral smelling residue a creation narrative reduced to sudden inversion of night the darkness and the deep a diffusion of spirit moving over the surface of meterless sound shimmering mirage past paradise hardening to real love a sticky glue against my eyes and to imagine the single star that fixes us spinning clockwise tonight a cell’s steady buzzing in the infinite expanding possible past words heard at what I thought was in the beginning another country further up and further in from one corner to another, uh huh