Sunday, February 28, 2010

what remains in the morning

, ah drank a bottle uv vine
and vare is my drunken state?
          i don't feel drunk
          but i am i suppose.
da ding wit da ding
dat we did wit da ding
is da ding that we did---
          ha ha ha, i'm busted.
i told. i told it, i told.
swivel, swivel, side to side,
day and night have no meaning,
only sun low and only sun high
          hello sun, sun good bye.

how i relate my person all to you,
the words of another matter---
though my words matter most,
           i breathe, lungs full,
           now i have a headache.
      who have i offended
but myself---
                   there is absolutely
no way to have this conversation
                   is there?

slop and slough, i'll dream it off---
where and winter when?
i should have a friend by then,
      to share this bottle uv vine.
i did not make a very good train man!
forgot the schedule,
hung out with the free riding winos,
talked politics with the voices
      of crushed ants
tied my shirt to the mail pole,
ran like thunder down the sleeper,
woke a little girl from her heavy slumber,
missed the stop to pull the lever
we were headed to Chicago
 
   and we ended wherever---
they left me at that last crossing,
     mutinous fucks     
all lighters and no matches,
     i suppose that’s true, but
we don't need no stinking badges,
we've got badges of our own---
every night we go to sleep,
every sleep, we dream of Rome.
and where and when we wake up,
we should have friend by then,
and if we do, most happily
                   we’ll share our cup.

No comments:

Post a Comment

More God Bolts