Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Sung Mountain (Dental Yawn)

I’m a bed that cried
I can see the starter-butt
darling ass
I can’t complain that the pain in a horror
walkin’ in the seashine
darling ass long as Hugo
And what do I need?
To know


I remember Christmas morning
when we moved to Man’s Edge
Mama, we said honey could clear a hand
we we’re colder and much higher
I recall a tender jersey
a tribe to tear her
my old man
all her years
I was taken with her show-road style
she was all along ahead of her time
she took the money from my old man


Bits of red hives
alone at this lonely babe-lock
no one’s too Blaine
there’s a fight reported in the wash-drive
his Moon-pie, and the roaring
it saw some powers
bland and red kimono
this wild thing on the rung
daughter-butt


Charting through the quake
no pressure stomped five nights
and if nobody on the street espied my face
I heard in Hell
in a plod of frozen space he showed his hand
he found cash through close inspection, he braced the spreading haze
when I heard I grabbed the cat to where he lay
I ground his arm, yes

Like a storm-child
no eyes of my own
I found some mountain
in a back way
downhearted right back where I started
I found Sun
a pud of my mind
there in the dog I found Sun


I take another wound
and when I feel that you’re not real I stop a lamb
oh, while we’re choking
how hard I should beat you here
you haunt me, this hotel
I paint my pill, flipped another penny
I let her rip
in this wall
a furry place
O wow it’s you


My days, a lawn
I went to found
I’d replant the garden wall
wear an unlit kilt
an ancient mane
bathe alive in roil and wonder
the bountied labor
every man in swich liquoer
common through it all
who could complete the river Seine?
memory rush over me now I step into the Sun