I know the drill
i know what to do
believe me
i do
but i will savor
the flavor
as long as i can
then snap
out
of
it.
your brain
on the outside
coloring the walls
of your tiny home
so much color
so much to say
so distracting
and
calming
all
at once
not knowing
where to look
i keep my eyes low
i see your hands
i see the bruise
on my leg
i smell kelp
i smell sativa
i hear
Olu Dara
birds
the breeze
your breath
as
you jump around
unsure
of anything
something like an acid trip
without the drug
when in doubt
sit
still.
thats
the
drill.
The Drill
01 Wednesday Feb 2012
Posted Aesthetic Pleasure, Friendship, Los Angeles
in
first reading of your words, I mean really reading them, giving them time – been reading for an hour, don’t want to stop but made it through January and now my eyes are sore and my bum aches and that old moth eaten blanket, sleep, drops over me. February will have to wait…I will dream your words or see them as spring coloured stitches running through the tapestry of night. Thank you for that golden hour.
My goodness this is so flattering – thank you. I sincerely hope my words have not caused any serious brain damage… I tend to motor on..
Coming from you this is a great compliment. Thank you.
brain damage is the least of my concerns – keep on truckin…
I was intending to explore your February / March postings tonight but became absorbed in a catch-up of Tin Cup’s contemplations and that was that, mental meltdown!
Glad you like TC…he expands and contracts. Sends my brain into convulsions.