When gray fades into gray And black and white appear There’s clarity from chaos From things you used to fear These things that used to own you Have finally set you free But the chains still drag behind you No matter how you try and flee You’re straining to move forward But your past it weighs you down As you walk it clanks and rattles ‘Though you’ve finally made new ground These chains they slow your walk And you cannot climb the hill So you stay here in the valley And know not what calls you still
It started with a girl wandering, locked out a pale ghost carrying milk on a wooden yoke in frigid winter lost, with no language, hallucinating Hiroshima, dogshit, and escape, on mushrooms, in a see-through nightie wearing fear, going by bus, following a loose marble into the highway reststop with the wax sculptures, fast food fungi, the torture maps, charts and diagrams, lost in the horror film lost in the frantic search leading to the haunted house leading to the increasingly enclosed space and finding her mother inside the dull mirror of the broken mammogram machine costing a quarter.
The girl and the mother are strangers. That's all I remember.
When gray fades into gray
ReplyDeleteAnd black and white appear
There’s clarity from chaos
From things you used to fear
These things that used to own you
Have finally set you free
But the chains still drag behind you
No matter how you try and flee
You’re straining to move forward
But your past it weighs you down
As you walk it clanks and rattles
‘Though you’ve finally made new ground
These chains they slow your walk
And you cannot climb the hill
So you stay here in the valley
And know not what calls you still
The Dream Dried Up When I Touched it:
ReplyDeleteIt started with a girl wandering, locked out
a pale ghost carrying milk on a wooden yoke
in frigid winter
lost, with no language,
hallucinating Hiroshima, dogshit, and escape,
on mushrooms, in a see-through nightie
wearing fear, going by bus,
following a loose marble
into the highway reststop
with the wax sculptures, fast food fungi,
the torture maps, charts and diagrams,
lost in the horror film
lost in the frantic search
leading to the haunted house
leading to the increasingly enclosed space
and finding her mother inside the dull mirror
of the broken mammogram machine
costing a quarter.
The girl and the mother are strangers.
That's all I remember.
Landmark:
ReplyDeleteLeonardo invents the wheellock pistol, then works on the
Mona Lisa for ten years. Art is never the same
An estranged Greek wanders into Marienburg screaming,
asking for "Die grun kinder?" Philosophy is never the same.
Taking a cue from his father Dracul and his mentor John
Hunyadi, Vlad Tepes invents the freeform abattoir.
Politics is never the same.
James Watt, after 20 labors, unveils his steamshovel pilecrapdriver. Industry is never the same.
Oppenheimer cowers and pisses his pants, quoting
the Bagavad Gita in the light of the first worldwide tanning
booth. War is never the same.
Dark Saturn pries himself fullborn from the everyman brow
of a poet's Zeus. Life is never the same.
CinnamonGhoul
j_gulbranson@hotmail.com