Saturday, February 11, 2006
They stand there throwing lines at each other
inside the TV set. The music blazes
inside my head as a beautiful girl water skis.
"This music would be good to hear on the radio
while waking up, in a state of half-sleep."
I have a definite lust for life. Even here
in my room, set apart from all stages, I can feel
the so-called outside events, the latest American tragedy
and the heat, the rush of the leaves.
"Don't dance in Kansas City."
"Stay away from strange mist on the sea."
Because Miss Tahiti 1981 is the most beautiful girl I've seen today.
I carry burdens with me when I walk and the streets
aren't so mellow, though they too age along with
every oak and sparrow.
"New faces every day, new columns on buildings,
Miss Tahiti has one of those faces you'll remember
a long time, which is where her immortality lies.
If I don’t follow her advice I am so fucked.