The Unswung Bat

Friday, December 03, 2004
 
Something Something

I want to be brushed by the breeze that can’t help feeling happier than sad.
I want negative entropy.
I want a smile like an open palm,
not unlike rain-soaked earth after a drought.
I want to dance wildly on rain-spattered earth after a drought.
I want dust to mud to earth to life.
I want the moral of the story, that, even when I can’t see it, always is there.
I want matter and antimatter and chaos and the beginning of the world.
And the World.
To feed pearls to black elephants.
Smoke to follow the extinguished candle’s gaze.
Fire.
I want to read that monologue I didn’t do in OAC - my fourth piece.
I want to be weak in the knees,
and to hear my heart.
I want to fly the world backwards, and around itself.
I want someone to call me crazy and mean it.
I want someone to call me out and mean it.
I want the vague suggestion of pairs to resolve itself and become real everywhere in me.



original site + text contents ©2004 twenty oh four by me called it

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