The radio-skull
Play volume like dolls
Silence wounded- bleeding grape-wine
And the hand
Comes out, points me out to the Halloween eyes
Scattered all over the sky
Mary would not see her lamb again;
lost in the forces of music
Of the tribal hegemony…
Days are shameless
Repeating access to our activities
and the routine
Printed of the bony-machine.
Smoke of volume exalting high
Passion running down the kitchen-sink!
The skull turned off.
Noise quits confidently.
Silence wants a coffee!
4 comments:
'silence wants a coffee'-- loved that last line!
"Play volume like dolls"
theres a grammatical error here, it should be "plays".
even then, i somehow cant understand it.
the poem is beautiful... your concepts are fragrant, but i think u need to work on your grammar.
Does your Keyboard behave well everytime? Mine one?It doesn't.
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