"Candy cane walks down
to build a bonfire, to break my fall
my baby. My sweet thing
just maybe we could lose ourselves this time.
King of the horseflies, dark prince of death
his tragic forces are heaven sent
in sweat things, in a lover's breath
in knowing this was meant to be the last
a go-go-go kids, a go-go style
a suck, suck, kiss, a suck suck smile
as always in young need,
a veiled promise to never die
on dead highways her black beauties roam
for june angels so far from home
for love lost, a faded picture,
to tread lightning, to ink the lavender skies
so get on the bomb
get back where you belong"
Fading out…..like memories ….to leave an
empty shard of escape, buried deep into the silicon slate.
Running down the mountain the star filled sky a backdrop to
our plans, failing colossus, passing by in the midnight
breeze whipping through those trees. It was too dark to see
beyond those trees to the dim lighted cabin beckoning us
like authority. Not a lighter in our hands, but there I
stood silent sentinel as you rushed up so rashly to that
doorway, and threw that note into tomorrow. Terrorist black
called us to act. It was not blowing up the blob or burning
down the lodge, or creaming the sleeper or bleeding the
heater. Not a wisp of toilette paper would be found when
that whole jaunt came down. But a word of thanks over that
dining hall breakfast plate. Thanks to TUPSAS. Yeah they
are the men. Starry inky black sky was no reflection to our
souls or our chores. And it was so sad to see reflected in
our faces the carefreeness of the ages. Unlined smiling
beacons, destroying every blue cretin that could never show
its face in that dew filled air. Running down the mountain
it was so sad knowing none of it would ever last. Here
we'll tell tales of death, and fill the air with memorized
words. There is liberation in terror, beating those windows
at four in the morning and then hearing the next day that
their slumber went undisturbed, becoming lavender forms
moving from town to town. We were floating, we did not know
where we were, flying down the street. Hovering in that
planter. Next doorway double jeopardy, tragic risk. This
one was half open. Your eyes glimmered….and so did
his….man you guys are sick. Stealing shadows,
wrapping darkness invisibility was garbed about us. Light
sort of bounced off us, like fragmenting shards ripping
into hearts. I'll have a trance at the point of defense
again. Thanks. But all was silent and all was still, we
delivered and then moved on to our next task. Mountainous
ruin was raining down on the heads that stayed below,
hopefully their dreams were adventured filled, their loss
was. And when they all leave that day to go separate ways
and light different funeral pyres, the memory of that night
will come back and haunt. At four thousand feet the air is
clear the only pollution is what you never hear. The words
that you always say, the smog that will blow it all away,
and yet leave a remnant of something to sit lodged in your
mind. Like a shard of something piercing to the core, and
when it hits its like a hammers blow. Like "The Last
Emperor" or some such fate….leaving your soul
hanging and your thoughts diving into a pit. Its a
synthesis of that word depression, but so much more,
because you know it was meant to occur.