Tuesday, September 04, 2012

white lines

moment to moment,
minute to minute,
moving white lines on the road,
raven on the roof top,
an old man pulls a newspaper from a box,
emptiness twists and kicks,
inside the womb of ambition,
a smoke in one hand,
the other holds a stripper's hand,
moving hands on armageddon's clock,
sinking deeper into the hole,
save your money in a sock,
ambition is dripping pussies and engorged cocks,
the batter readjusts, 
the commentator talks,
raven on the roof top,
an old man lurches forward and pulls a newspaper from a box.


Fisheye Lens said...

Another movable feast from the mean streets. This one slow burns through the fascial membrane and leaves an impression, just like the Robert Plant tune. The Band of Joy played that at Jazzfest a couple summers ago.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Wonderful words and then the music of Robert Plant (who I have not come across before).

A feast indeed.

Anna :o]