Monday, June 14, 2010


the pacres are picasso paintings ... there's a complete thought in them don't you know but sometimes it seems well broken ... that sharp fragment is the natural line of her nose ... hah his mouth you thought was his ear ... the argument's taken a fish hook turn here ... it gets you stuck ... the image doesn't cohere ... what is the point then or have you no excuse ... illuminati masons pyramids with eyes angels with aprons devils and trowels ... if all the world were speeding across your face just an inch or so past your reach ... if all the molecular jigsaw pieces came tumbling into your lap just as you got up trying to leave ... if you knew there was a time repeatedly when along the edges of the curtain the tassles breathed and glistened in the breeze ... you'd know then a summer day sense for sure ... you'd know it was true ... if you forgot what the beach was for ... if you thought it was sand water and wind ... in short a place ... like a pacre it tells you it was time

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