Tuesday, June 17, 2008

syntactic sugar

i know you're watching the spoon
fill itself with sweetness.
you can plant homes in the fill
between the minutes i don't speak,
which is a lot of homes. a lot.

people are weirder than bananas.
bloodstains on a mandala sheet prove it
because cold water removes that shit.
why don't you soak that sun mood
in some fifty proof and come
up to the bathhouse
for tea? we're having five day
beatles and humus on pita.

today is a day for a story
but the allegorist, author, bard, fibber,
liar, minstrel, narrator, raconteur, writer
are tired. shakespeare has left the building
where he made his money
and joined us for a more human friendly drink.
he's even brought a bottle of architecture.
that's him singing yeah yeah yeah
so close your books and give em
their privacy. it's the least we can do.

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