so much joy it hurts

Jul. 5, 2012 at 11:01am with 12 notes View comments

Reblogged from poemsvsvolcano

Coiled spring, analogous
tension & pressure,
prehistoric neighborhood,
cauldron of nuclear power:
we were drinking gin &
tonics from the planet’s jaw
when the news came. Roses
are red, violets are blue jeans;
cupcakes are cop-food, death
is a dinosaur (extinct, et cetera)
whispering the future is an
old friend shouting “don’t
be afraid.” Dear degeneracy,
dearer street map of Texas,
dearest thrust-to-rocket ratio
from which God puts cock to
abyss: Modernity, my fucker,
is the natural language
of structure; our goodwill
gets complicated when
we break Hell in unsimple
shapes. Fourth of July,
fifth of July, sixth of stellar
lighthouses surrounding
space, seventh: one is
always coming upon some
American city whispering I am
some American city & I am
the desire to be within it
when the sun fries. We dance
under the asterisks, dip our
toes in the ink. The odds the
stars will write our sentence
remain incredibly low.

SWD