trying to attach to my artistic side
where words shine in clouds:
celebration, revelation, isolation, truth,
capsuled pills of what we seek, never enough to
satisfy the craving or the raving.
Some things are above the clap.
Pictograms drift in the future tea
somewhere there's a cage in search of a bird
now mollusk-people stand secreting their minds
they are museless.
He was intellectually adorable, chameleon-style,
let the 80's glitz pass him by, rewriting ADD:
Abstract Daydreaming Disorder.
Fold up your soul and stick it in your pocket,
unfold it and plant it in the shady loam
where it can grow along the skyscraper trees like moss.
you can't measure a person's soul because
there's nature chained to our souls:
tyrannical treetops waver
the sun lighting up the sky like a bomb
the shooting stars fizzling
rain punching the ground.
There's poetry on her arms and
she writes in mazes
she drinks coffee to make her dreams go faster
we're not a circle, we're a swirl
let's make Jesus sushi and have a Monty Pythonathon
and when you put your hands that way you look like a cat
I used to wonder if giraffes were aware
of the ants that pranced between their feet or
indeed if they cared at all for something
A/N: I really can't take credit for a lot of these lines. This is all shuffled quotes and scraps of poetry from my Creative Writing spiral, where some of my best work was born. Many of the phrases come from various classmates, I just happened to capture them and rearrange them, change wordings and add connections. Pieces of it are mine, too. This is a very strange style for me, but the piece means a lot because that class meant so much.