The xx us.
6th street & 4 am.
"do people really drown in drinks and
shots while some turn catharsis into art?'
"how about me taking your tequila and spill it on napkin?"
Nat, 03-10 (1961)
Walking around
the habitat 67
seen the views
had coffes
and Ellanor was wanting
to see an American film
I told her La Lutte
she laughed
"well, Sofia Lesaffree is good"
"I'm not keen"
she pulled a face
and went sit down
on a seat of some cafe
I sat next to her
you always have to spoil things
she said
reading the menu
"sei nicht sauer auf mich"
I'm not,
and your Deutsch is just so annoying
she said as she left.
I cried her name
still begging to stay
promissing the land of Stohyer where all kids digging for
Ellanor back sat
I love you,
she said
I took her home
after a long walk
I told her
in the universe above all the stars
there's only one star placed in the Rosy Garden of heaven
and people named her Victoria One
but I called her La Toya
then what you'd like to call her?
I asked
she looked at me
with her icy-blue eyes
tossed back hair
from her face
"I don't get why would people even name a star."
21:37
I went with you
to the art gallery
she said
to see all those boring impressionist
but you can't go with me
to see Clint
"I'm not into French movie either."
Good boy,
she said
1963
Ellanor: Hey?
[received, deleted]
She told me
no lovers waiting home
it was just strangers craving for each lips
to fill out their graves
and dusty cd's
that have the magic power
to turn whiskey into
holy water
you're not going to sleep in the ghost town of her mouth
see, it was nine numbers to swallow tears
His eyes were hard as porphyry
looking on cruel lands
and his voice went slipping over her
like terrible silver hands
they tord this secret lane
and walked the muttering town
he wore his heart like a wet,
red stain
on the breast
of valvet gown
And finally that flame
so eternal, burnishing
brightens as she gasps
holds him close
he wasn't there no more
on his ear— she was
his Chrysanthemum
but
oh yes
it was
it was
her tattoos, hidden from
the light of day,
are illuminated in the shadows
they decorate that soft flash
with the places she stays
the beliefs she holds
the people she becomes
she is the girl at the crosswalk,
the man in the tailored suit
who used to be her good boy
granted her wished
no longer know
the child playing pretend
the old lady on the balcony.
a stranger
to a stranger.
a stranger
to a stranger.
heroine.
villain.
skank.
ingenue.
him.
her.
them.
you.
me.
she.
(rinzsu)
Tuesday, July 7, 2015