Posts Tagged ‘nowhere’


He wants her in the water like a lily made of flesh

He wants her in the mountains scaring yeti out of caves

He wants her riding nowhere at the beginning of the day

He wants her to embrace him in succulent moonlight

He wants her sweet and writhing in the intensity of fuck

He wants her to rewire his brain into a more pleasing configuration

He wants her to convince him that he is worthwhile and not a chump

He wants her to put up with his porn-perverted sexuality

He wants to wax along her wobbly sex

He wants to gnarl around her three pointed paradise

He wants her to pretend he is attractive

He wants her to extend her body to him

She doesn’t want to

pirate sky
What am I waiting for? Where am I going? The build-up of detritus constricts like a giant python. It’s all too much. I feel besieged from every side and I begin to choke on fluff and nonsense, to go cotton wool blind.
Infinity’s five dimensions of nowhere, a subtle oscillation at the base of the spine, coming in up through the chakras and out through the middle eye, giving me visions of mountains full of icicles of glass, where at any moment I might be cut to ribbons of suppurating flesh.
Omega at the corner of each instant of knowing, brown paper packages tied up with yearning: I walk beside the river Azgard, I play the pipes of pan and the critters of the forest dance a merry jig. I talk to the critters and the critters talk to me.
There are purple azaleas to light up my day till it burns with heavenly fire, precious to me for the moment. I number each one and record it in a little black ledger, a number beside the name of every girl I’ve ever known.
For I am formed of better stuff I like to say to myself, Mine is the time, but then you hit forty and the hours no longer stretch to infinity and time no longer waits for you, it is elusive and gone like a memory, faded like an old photograph, misty and translucent.
No longer am I a kid, as in ‘the kids are alright’ or the ‘kids just got crazy drunk and created a ruckus’. My time has gone and all I can do is try to look like I’m still funky, that I’m the man, That I own an extensive collection of Hawaiian shirts.
No longer do I shoot myself full of heroin and wonder at the total and utter relief of all the random pain of existence, the days are no longer fuzzy pillows of satiation, moments of nodding off in the corner and moments of dancing.
Onwards, upwards until my insides almost burst, until my eyeballs pop out of my skull, roaring random obscenities in memory of a secret name, I am the bees upon the trees, watching, growing and buzzing through the cosmos at warp speed.
A new day is dawning, the psychedelic sunrise is a kaleidoscope of colourful laser rays- We can all jitterbug madly together around the fire and howl our love forever to a thousand women we’ve never met.
A gathering of love in a forest, the leaves of the trees speckled by the sun and salted by The Spirit, people dancing in the rain, people making love and growing their hair for the hell of it into ever more interesting permutations, people in love with just being as one.
What bliss to join with brothers and sisters in communion, aching together for social justice and breaking home-baked bread together, to feel at home and nurtured like a baby inside her mother- free at last, Praise the Lord! I’m free at last!