Danger! my butterfly dreams are trying to tell you something
I don't want to put you in any danger. Wood grains and yellow hanging
lamps piss all over the walls in that room you want into, clouding the
drywall with a smell you can lick off your fingers, leaning back and
letting one thin coverlet is dead. Young David Collins can sit in the
garden confiding in his "ghostly friend," or querying her: "I know who's
dead," she explains. These days the feelings swarm and subside like
watching a beach wrinkle and disturb her. As far as it's now known,
what's important is that men become men again, or mountains mountains,
or maybe my butterfly dreams are trying to tell you something. My
butterfly dreams are trying to tell you something. Sometimes needs
eclipse self, or sometimes even the seams drill us with ferocious and
lovely light. Sure, you wanna save everybody, but from what, and just
/where/ will you whisk them off to? I'm impaled on sweetness, rubbing
sugar into the wound.
Everywhere you step
can snap. I wouldn't
want you to hurt it
--
Lewis LaCook
Director of Web Development
Abstract Outlooks Media
440-989-6481
http://www.abstractoutlooks.com
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http://www.lewislacook.org
lewislacook.org - New Media Poetry and Poetics
http://www.xanaxpop.org
Xanax Pop - the poetry of Lewis LaCook
