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this fiction of mine laboured tightly in the skull of memories and mysteries worked to the wheel by furies who deal the willing thread in...

Monday, June 22, 2015

some songs have no words


some songs have no words
some have no name
jojo crafts walls of them pieces tumult
and clamor scores backdrops for blasts
some girls have no songs
no r├ęcipes no instructions
we have to sob tons find charmwords
to spread it on fawn cajole woo them 
in the midnight hour for sure
it´s every teenager burden and call

precisely were you 18
when dawn found you on the stairs
of the fire-escape in back of the house
-waiting on the sunrise you said- then
she held you least you´d fall or worst
and the day turned blindingly sunny 
next she gave herself away helpless
and you were in the snare caught
and hardup to meet the girl in question
who absently said any ol´song was just
fine and the verse was as good as it gets
the blanks were blown and revealed
meaninglessness...their worth  _zero
and you entered that instant ethos
colored fulfilling the promise of flesh
neon signs at rest now buses parade
and you longed for her at midday
covered with detritus of sex
emotions alone
and awake with a notion of something
amiss amidst thunder outbursts
your brain crashes the walls
rocks hurl into the sun
invaders of the heart fly the breeze
the dub bass reverb resets your head
a factory yard the lane leading to it
the gate you shake your head 2015
times and times with no end await
the solder kit to frame dissonant
refrains clangor roarwaves
for the trashers the sailors the clerks
masons atomizer in hand get an earful
of noise sounds from circuit bending
jojo knows no best way


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