And you were a Tarot card pinned to a tree
And you were my mantra that I cdn't speak
And you were the silver on the Four Horses
And you taught the rivers the Four courses
I wanted to follow the cobblestones that flew
If I give up my fear, what I fear will happen, I fear
My life ma vie
If I knew how to be the silver-strapped cowboy in the gritty sun
If I could break bands of iron w/ my vibrations
If I could sneer like the advertised moustache of cigarettes
What if I fictionalized that story
I'd say that there was a planet once that was in another system. I had not the passport allowed for travel to that world. I changed my face to fit the stereotype. I changed my hands to fit the stereogram.
She lived on a planet to which I had no passport...I had no shuttle through the conservancy...the leaves folding over art deco...And so I braved winter & feared summer,
I was tired, tired of holding up these heating vents,
Or else watching
The sun rose over the field like the truth behind the falsehood that's sharper than pain
I have no umbrella, said the cane to the stick of wood
Oh well, sunflower seeds or at least their shells/ You'd have to crack 'em to see the interior
You could have cracked me/ to see what's inside/ it isn't worth the effort
And she lived in a hanging garden, you hung in a living garden
& pessimism for worlds, will I find this a world
I don't know, said the cowboy.
Aren't you tired of this?
"I always listen to girls," he said, "And I mean in the sense of hearing & obeying." I always hear this life...
So what gives color & music to language?
DOES COLOR MEAN "BRIGHT"?
It's good when you have no desire to say
You don't need to...
You don't need to say it...