| dewy decimal |
2003-12-03 - 3:48 a.m.
I could be great. Really.
A veil of Moonlight on an unexpected flight
Through Chinatown on a makeshift cloud.
Flouting, red and devil-eared, smoke-thin
Above the unsung cityblock.
The black back of midnight, swaying and swishing
And maybe I�ll shine, shine to light my way.
Or... I could just as soon end up in ruins.
Someone�s polite inquiry; Having gone so awry.
Mismatched by an unflushed toilet;
Everything moving- to settle down.
Almost still, a string of hot blood trails
in a warm bath, looping into itself. Again. Again.
Needles and broken tweeds,
Filthy, hopelessly wilted... a novice's
Careless, kiss-light surrender.
The weighty Or
That�s the fun of me.
And that's the fun of me.
Come see.
Come see.
I promise you
a show.