communication

thin telephone lines I hate this That I have to yell justification over crippled birds Exploding transformers and malcontent Tape it to the foot and run Go! GO! Its almost too late The snooze button is rising with the tide Happens twice a day in my soul Upon waking And trying to go to sleep without pictures Haunting dust drawn crevice Make a etch a sketch out of my mind Scratchin hemispheres of chalkboards and wall notches Make it all gingerbread men Force it down my mouth in miniaturist armies Salute when its all over I promise Will have respect for it when its all a postcard When all these unknowns cease to matter When I find enough religious belief to forget myself Get lost in mantras and kaleidoscope chords Not this black light view where everything is the same Yellow teeth hooded figures of youth Been following me for so long now Quit whispering my name! I haven¡¦t forgot it or yours Or what your touch feels like Chinese water torture hands Soft but anguish Knowing what comes next Cursed with this 3rd eye Rather be a Cyclops and jump in mosh pits Bang my head against the wall all day instead of trying to grasp Figments of light segmented between these hands Cumulus keep growing Head erect for rain and I can¡¦t even keep the ground down. stomached Written October 11th, 2001 © on Oct 11 2001 12:26 PM PST   17 • 9 • 1