Sunday, April 30, 2006

notes on the way home from houston

just imagining all the words i could hold
peach speach
to grow + grow
soft + pitted
made of fruit substance
built for purpose
composed of matter

the light of oil
destructing beautifully
goodbye to clean sky

light in dark
the lamps that spark
against clean night
replace the stars
we've all forgotten

but grass grows
in abandoned parking lots
and on the
crumbling rooves of ancient buildings

cellos sound with the
speed of the sun
rumbling over, all eyes
pricked to function
repeat, circle

<- come together ->
bring meaning
host of thoughts
brain ball

there stays a springing
grass grows again
trees crack into sidewalk
the unstoppable
and i want to live in a bright bungalow
with a moss-covered roof
and open windows
if i can just stop pulling out my hair
if i can get over all these hurdles
circumstance willing, i can get there

trash piling up around our towns
are we drowning yet?
supply + demand
waste + discard

plastic covered and metal sheathed
land flattened and set in concrete
wood wasted
the mediums of structure
the bonds of matter
are all things that matter

this is a call to arms
with able hands
and heads full of bodies
every person is
a whole person

in perspective
things look smaller
when farther away
and the blood of others
flows free and separate
distant from our own
through silent strings
run from each spider