Long Orange Banner

My ride is here time to leave get out while the getting’s good all the religions are collapsing I’m a stranger to this world I want to do something for the slender and imponderable Hammerhead plays the piano the extent of the destruction is staggering

Here we are on the beach during sand the ocean only makes sense if you press the button I accept the struggle I do it for fish I do it for halibut and cod I do it for waves and crabs and starfish we all hunger for color we all feel the heat and this makes us friendly I feel like a drawer full of new underwear and sometimes I just sit quietly and think as my eyes eat the wall and I tumble into words

The streets of Céret are quiet tonight although the world is on fire I’ve got clouds in both pockets I swim toward the light the glow of embers agree with my buttons mustard is public but pickles are beatific watch this new band get on the stage I can feel the breath of a thousand birds

I tickle the maturity of metal a copy of Hamlet on my lap we do enameling and fermentation my philosophy of structure could use a dachshund I continue walking I’ve got a fiduciary responsibility to my constituents back home in Moab we make mosaics out of broken glass let’s plunge this whole thing into some intellect please

We engorge our words as we engage them I see the rain coming down on the Black Hills of South Dakota the highway has a pagan relish I walking among zombies with silk and silverware my personal weather involves a search for greenery I stand by the pump and wait for something to happen

We’re at 10,000 feet we look for a guide or at least a good idea studded with books we need a cure for greed I can feel the connections tremble I get up and greet the day the entire pineapple is an igloo of the mind a pretzel qualifies as a plant if you think about it it writes itself like a needle on a vinyl record I’ve got a brain like an ice cube it melts whenever you’re around we’ve got a few luxuries frozen pizza an oven cable TV and a cat sleeping on the bed

Look at me my seismograph is going crazy there are stars on my shield and a bow of arrows in my spawn it’s a pretty thought the very dirt is groaning under the weight of the sky I feel like I’m imbued with trout my dick wiggles when I walk I see sails on the distant horizon

Can you smell the salt of the sea under the boardwalk I’m on a hunt for a new geometry I see clouds scudding past the moon and it makes me squirm I feel curiously historic it’s a good defense my personality requires an empire I sit back and sigh your cue stick is poking me

My age is completely irrelevant the ground is splitting open my fork is an aurora of silver old men on Harleys ride by I’ve got a splash of Scotch in my belly each bikini insinuates a body it’s how the air gets on a G string and here we have the pavement of Paris the twitch of an eel in an old wooden barrel ice cold water and a long orange banner twisting in the wind welcome it says welcome to the festival of giants welcome to the feast of the moon welcome to the end of the sentence as soon as it gets here we’ll know it’ll just suddenly disappear