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Jul 2010
I’m watching lives,
lives that might’ve
been mine
flit in and
out of impressionistic
existence in the days of
bursting moments
breeding sculpted trees into living
instruments breaching screeches
throughout our ears.

gods! How long it’s been
since eternities
spent lying
white lies across pale
secrets spilt on carpets
of ash inhaled to
just get past another still life of
tangled cigarettes atop
those books I
can’t remember breathing

in picnics painted with
green black stares of
stripped down cathedrals and
I’m leaving to repent my
thoughts twitching along
steel cords killing visions of storm
tossed seas smiling at
friendly dragons green,
just him and me laughing at
St. George’s dying look.

Cat’s cast bronze curls
inside sleeping shirts hanging
off the back of
suicide notes, shoulders bent
while we stare and
dare to listen to lives not
ours to live. Chocolate covered
whiskers fixing colors for our
pictures; but it’s all
false imaging anyway.

Pirates and witches taking
shots at our thoughts
downing liquored treats
divining dances towards the driven
roads leaking floors feeling
beats crackling down
our spine; cigarette
kisses in cafe corners
watching stars explode blank life in
gold spattered sheets.

A lone man hanging life ten
thousand miles high falling
into swirling cotton candy flames
and how I want to
believe it ever really meant
anything at all! Footprints
never changing in the
Moon lit laughs down streets
I hardly care to remember.
Black Crow!

Black Crow! How you
seem to fall out his eyes
crying chlorine tears into a
mouth never coughing up
life and breath lost on the
backs of laughter smiling mirrored
spirits of fleeting peace reflecting
tomorrows lives back to our
eyes searching fabled bravery
in Arsenic's cup.

We’re all trying to see past
our eyes and
understand how we
can trivialize the rings of
swirling flames blinking in
Sol’s iris; photographed
silhouettes tying
tongues to labeled nebula
in one junkies eye
reflecting the need

gnawing upon my
mind watching your
thousand smiles spend
my time and I’m trying
to remember what it meant
to see another breaking
mountainsides, ninety mph
vibes falling naked in the
grass underneath
your back.

I’d rather watch ghosts
doubled, holding islands
of dust solidified on those
stone cold basement
floors fighting clothing to chase
an innocent drunk down stairs
falling into nights 900 miles
away, memories I don’t have
cast aside, tiny capsules
encapsulating dying fires.

How G and R and
E reflect the sun in
skies dancing floating
clouds just gone by,
making friends with a
blaze of smoke pouring
out our words in the hue of
blue; lit cigarettes
catching the cold rim of
nights growing old

with fungus, chemicals
washed up on the edge of
photographs stained with
pieces of a memory in
a lamps single light; I’m
borrowing camera’s to
impress a girl entwined
in spiders silken webs
hanging voids of
every colored space.

And god, how young
these faces look, too
young in the company of
these stars scratching
at the door to break out
of these times; lost
bicycle rides down aisles
playing with Atlas
shrugging off his burdens
to ride 25 cent smiles

in the lights of tonight’s
fires dragging branches
dried of sunlight spilling
golden liquid out of
plastic red cups. Freshly
tattooed haircuts watching
in all earnestness
growing old and pretty
soon all our hair will run out
of our skulls to cover

the bathroom floors in
**** and *****
covered stardust;
we’re peaking our heads
out the shower
while we dance tip toed
steps across the
branches growing out of 
decks into frozen
chemical nights.
Written by
D.T. Lethe
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