Bi-i-i-i-i-g Past
I got a bi-i-i-i-i-g mouth and a bi-i-i-i-i-g past from a big ride, from a Queensying spawn to a Canadian dawn to a Californ to dawn, to dawn, to dawn.
A subway through a snowstorm, a cab whistling through the park, a shack in the woods, a stone hut on a hill, a teepee on the beach, a spot at the T-crossroad, a house on a cold river, a place with a murder in a well, a face over a stove, contemplative soup disturbed by a spoon, the ancient kitchen, the living, room.
I can't I can't I can I can't I can Break the ocean over the sky Crack the earth
across the night darkness flooding the continents like read pages, ages.
POETRYP||| MUSIC ||| INTERVIEWS ||| REVIEWS
1961 CHRYSLER ||| UPCOMING EVENTS ||| ART ||| WRITINGS
||| E-MAIL MR. LUCKY! |||