Full of pent up harmonies I can't sing and featherfull anxion, I tap tonight out of rhinestones as if tapping danced no matter what, no matter what our mathematics had contrived. Trouble, I'm made for you, I'll find you where I can, in a feather or a human heart, tapping. I'll find you in the farthest reaches of It Ain't Happening. Put Morocco in a jar. Sell it to me. I'll drink it down.
It's Christmas and you're Slovenian. Now it's 100 degrees F and it's totally hot chocolate time. Like, totally. Nothing can stop me. The sun? Fuck him. Spacebo. I think. For talking to me, for not talking to me so that I go crazy. For giving me time where I have to deal with being me. It's the awful thing that I don't want to do and can only do with the support of a distracted satellite. I'll fill up flagons and take them to Tomaz. He's got a mushroom for me, and peas on a knife and we all know peas on a knife looks just like peas in a robotic pod. Tomaz looks less like Saint Nick than I expected, and I don't know what I am made of, except maybe feathers and maybe some Guatemala Antigua. Medium Roast. El Salvador, Strictly Hard Bean. Plug me in to your monitor and a flagellum shows up. Push me hard and I grow like a bean. Like a robot bean, soundtracked up the wall and into the sky. -Tay --------------------------------------------------- http://www.tayarrowsherman.com/ http://www.olio-academy.com/ --------------------------------------------------- _______________________________________________ Five7Five mailing list [email protected] http://www.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/five7five
