All that jazz

I … continental current keeps me teasing the disease

You… pray to Norman Mailer to ease the malaise

I… run on rainwater aching for a call

You… book the book flight and just say nothing at all

All that blood

All that jazz

Wasted days

Wasted ways

I… befriend a friend but all I get is the neck

You… defend a boy-band with a toy-sword in hand

I… bent like a wire on fire but straighten again

You… broke like a spoke you choke on clean air

All that blood

All that jazz

Wasted days

Wasted ways








May 2010

Agnostic

Who makes your bed?

Who holds your head when

You spit the lead?

Where do I look for you?

In dälek?

In sound check booth?

I want the truth

Are you Eno-synth?

Or too innocent

To let me drown

Pull me up

Then pull me down down?

Who makes my bed?

Who holds my head

When I spit the lead?

Am I in you?

Or in ’64?

Or in Tokyo?

Do you take me for dead

When you walk on by

Never saying hi?

Why didn’t I

Let you drown

And pull you up

Just to pull you down down?

thalidomide

something’s wrong

something’s missing

rembrandt’s arm remnants remain reasonably raw

jeronimo jumps on one leg

lennon lies dis-limbed

ringo’s missing the ring-finger

unknown stretches stretch to catch me

be my aid

my arm extension

since my soul’s already there

queing at sear’s

getting in touch with my inner self

converting black market basements

into a white wide consumer

‘cause somebody spiked my soda with something

I felt it inside my womb while growing still

and I gave birth

to a wrong idea

an abomination

doomed to ask for help to fetch the coat

I have both arms

but I cannot fly

I have both legs

but I cannot walk on water

I know

I know there is someone somewhere sitting at the semi-sap-green table listening to Coltrane thinking now now is it high enough thinking there must be someone somewhere sitting at the semi-sap-green table listening to Coltrane ‘cause all roads lead to Coltrane before before you fly right down. I know that there is someone somewhere sitting drawing a straight line turning to a curve sliding down thinking there must be someone somewhere sitting drawing a straight line with the hand that fails with the hand that fails and slides into a curve some things are just out of hand. I know that there is someone somewhere lying in an unmade bed barefoot leaving and leaving without leaving thinking there must be someone somewhere lying in an unmade bed leaving leafless sliding down with no one to say goodbye to. I know there is someone somewhere thinking there must be someone somewhere thinking there is someone somewhere thinking there is someone somewhere.

                                                   october 2010.

the photography taken from here: http://johncoltraneonline.wordpress.com/