We are but prisoners
Of waterfalls

We stand on broken ribs.
Faces to the glass,
We drown. heavy mileage on our minds,
We wrap the earth in cerebral folds.
And the corpse we carry really is a weight we'd like to throw.
We love the strange new animals,
We love the fearful plants,
But we all surrender
Turpentine to rid us of our pasts.
You would walk the rotten hill side,
You would taste the clouds bellow.
But the world you walk,
Is running water through valleys in palms of hands.
We all know we will be respected
By greed and death and loathed by clarity
Jettisoned
Emotions flood the banks
The valleys overflow.
If only memory served us better,
We could swim to dry our souls.

We're suicidal swans.
We're silence , in throats we creep.
You'll know us by the shaking ground when ideas emerge
from the deep.

Dolphins have more dignity.
A sleep walking helicopter, gracefully deceased.
Beauty makes the blind weep.
To describe a song in color is a portrait's symphony.
The light drips on closed eyelids
trough holes in weathered sheets.
Curiosity stands up where strange faces hide and seek,
Swarming the webs of electricity that dragnet the city;
Confusing power with duty in a place with trees like origami.
Monstrous theories dance with nightmares on the horizon.
absolute equinox.
Listening to history in the present,
Planets approach with lupine walks.

We're suicidal swans.
We're silence , in throats we creep.
You'll know us by the shaking ground
when ideas emerge from the deep.
We're suicidal swans.
We're silence , in throats we creep.
You'll know us by the shaking ground
when ideas emerge from the deep.

Offering flowers to the dirt like paralyzed
dancers we decline and smile and flee.
But, with years of past devotion, the crushing
atmosphere is bitter-sweet.


In my waterfall, here,
In earth, I'll slowly disappear.