Love in the heady hours of daylight savings time
always works out. Then I saw her face; now I'm
a believer! Sunshine in the off-season learns
the pre-meditated delight of playing about
her dappled shoulders. For dry skin, especially
around the elbow regions, birds suddenly appear.
The slit throat of the sun winnows with washing
darkness from the
scrubs of fences. The poet, along with his American
humming-bird
(sheltered in a cage from the ferocity of autumn)
wallows in rain
the size and softness of her belly; something he
always thought
possible but only read about previously in album
reviews in
Rolling Stone. This column of text is reminiscent of
her bed. It
dribbles down the page, much like creamed corn tricks
the corners
of an invalid's mouth into twitching. A tour-de-force
in pure
noise, heroic land music populates an abstract region
somewhere
between statehood and fast food. The comfort of it is
astonishing! The poet, sheltered from the ferocity of
a cage of
gilded time-and-a-half, flutters her wings so quickly
they're
invisible to the unaided eye.
The glasses surgically embed beams of science
fiction in her eyes, still scanning the sky
for import into photoshop. After the catharsis
of their last collaboration, the poet and his
exponential bird blast off this time for
saving daylight in a jar, which, frozen, can
seem both imposing and ridiculous in this light.
A bottle of hours is opened in their silver
space-ship. But robots never need lotion.
=====
http://www.lewislacook.com/
http://artists.mp3s.com/artists/385/lewis_lacook.html
meditation, net art, poeisis: blog http://lewislacook.blogspot.com/
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LUNCHTIME IN THE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE LAB
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Type: discussion