in the memory
Meant to clean it up, could not, forgotten. As if it were afraid of William, dynamite pedestrian, walking through outer space, a hundred faces, a thousand eyes. I like to stay home in my house. But whose house is this? The house of the lord, the lord of the dance, the dance of the rain that puts me in a trance. The river that flows, the flame that fails. All the pirates. All their ales. Inside. Along the mind of the loop in the wall. It is a feeling that is present in static, creates itself automatic. Free pears. Four plums. But where are they? The tramp? The train? Million-dollar eyelashes and mom's silly cakes. They divided I. Roosters crow, dong dings go to the purple if. Raining sing and shine. Beautiful mine. Eleven seesawing parakeets. Sword rangers, big time water jugglers. The end of the row of death. Last to find division. Infinite parallelism. Whole messes of answer cells, pathways to truth echoing on silver beaches in the memory.
~
2000 - 2001