I am Marmeladov Perched as if I were a Father Clock A Wasp A Fly An ant crawling towards the jar of sugar Stuck in a tear-drop of Honey Perched at your window Dream Catcher from vacation to Mexico To City Country of bandits Of hot sun of desert skin of guns ****** **** **** ******* Spanish women playing Spanish guitars only 3 strings only 5 fingers only 1 eye Gazing at Death Her Depth of field altered by her one orange eye like lit cigarettes in a jail sell after lights out quiet quartet spanish folklore a eulogy written in Violin strings a graveyard of deceased mad men we never fond Mozart's body vanished in the sky like the pupils of a white crow Anatomy of a violin: Casted in glass Molded by the moss stauteing over the side of your house Alcohol Sand and mud Winter and old leather boots worn by a Vagabond searching the trees for proof Sorrow Sorrow Sorrow untouched lips of a woman A.M. Wet cigarettes and wine and crooked eyes and a starving belly a Thirsty Mind A lost canine:سلوقی, Saluki, Persian Greyhound, Royal Dog of Egypt Sitting in a plastic wool cabin the Mad artist drinking molding ***** A lost Breed The Wise The Proud drunkards writing hysterically on tenement rooftops of NYC 1950 1920 Rimbaud the Tenth of November 1891 The wonderers with peyote with whiskey with 'Kamel Reds' with Hope and Curiosity Undress your symbolism Your Strawberry Eyes that Grow on my walls and feet like Callus' And like the Charcoal sketches performed By Death We Age just as the sky does just as the Tree you climbed as it rained and you swallowed Lightning and Thunder Yet the sky was dry of no rain It is a drought We pluck the roses eye lashes and Kiss We climb into Brick studios and watch the Ballet dancer as she shapes her bones into Sad New Orleans Trees The door is locked Not by bolt but By the uncut fingernails and hair of wild vines So we crawl through the side shingles like San Antonio lizards
Ballet ashes dancing to the sigh of Beethoven's last sight before a wisdom of blindness swept over his brown eyes She seems to be painted all black Like the flight of a Crow Or the color of Plums I sing with the owls I lay with the long road of infinity and its sadness Out of oil Out of Gasoline Out of Food so we lay around Carving the paint off walls like Van Gogh
I am hunched over a grave The pond is frozen over 'Monumento a la Madre' Vagabond home The rain casts a shadow I cannot see past your face
Someone is listening I seep into the peripheral of night Write symphonies on stone Lay with the weeds digest the light of the moon
And as I follow the Southern Star home I am Stopped by Painted red ***** houses 24/7 Whiskey Churches So I Lay down the rifle