THE ACTIVIST BAr
I try but look
its difficult
did you do it
on your own?
is it paint?
or is it inc?
Like are those icebergs?
on your breasts?
I like the thawing state of each
the climate is at risk
I like the plunging parts and cracks
the ocean which they hit
sending thousands
of bubbles up
surface bound
and about to burst
which is to say
here’s what’s coming
when it comes to consequence
there is much to explore
if its your core
wave upon wave the colour of hell
if its your arms
rivers run dry
if its your bush
a fire gone wild
if I close my eyes
a tenderness comes to mind
like that
of a belly
I’ve never touched
a skin like that
I’ve never touched
a skin that black
though I’ve
wanted to
I like the dash
between your tits
the statements
under each
the naked truth
hits this bar
cunt with cause
makes men hard
Once, my mother closed her eyes
and all the candles burned out
I tried to open mine
but could barely see
what was right
in front of me
an ice cold beer
maybe
or an
ashtray
the same sort my father used to throw at me
when I stood in his way
My mother closed her eyes
and all the candles burned out
my brother hid his eyes in his palms
as if death made life too bright
Outside my window
falls little raindrops
outside yours
the storm’s already here
in the world beyond my perception
there are other perceptions
Look I lie
look its love
look there’s much
you don’t need to know
I’m a child
of the church
son
of privelege
I’m usually found
to throw my voice
on white flags
on symbolics
between silence and speech
I ride the bubbles to the beach
which makes me feel small
which makes me want to change
which makes me too
to want to roll my sleeves up
and stand for something
the way I stand now
with one hand out
as if we were to dance
and if we were to dance
where do I look?
in your eyes?
and where do I
put my hands?
Sendt fra min iPhone