What thoughts I have of you tonight, hidden friend, for I skipped through the grey with a head full of brightness that managed to seep on through.
In one of my short wanders, I passed by dreaming of a future with you filling up the void.
What rules to break, what numerous revelations to be sought after,
the safety net has a tear the size of a watermelon.
I saw you, my little trapeze ******* doing a balancing act fit for the judges. Who are you trying to impress, who else would you dance for?
Are you the wolf at my door?
I wandered between those strings, pressed back from fear of spiders.
We couldn’t there’s too much guilt, a dead swan on the lake,
Never is there room for another prodigal’s son.
Where are we going with all this, is there a light you're following that I don’t see? You’re being called elsewhere, I understand,
but if i never see you again let me feel the lack.
Meanwhile we will tame the tigers with whips and chairs, we will shout into microphones from across the room. Crowds before us, all hungry for a show, to see the performance of our lives. Ah Pandora, you may leave your box closed for now as I fear this ballerina has caught a bad case of stage fright, along with the tigers.
Nov 27, 2014
Nov 27, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
What thoughts I have of you tonight, hidden friend, for I skipped through the grey with a head full of brightness that managed to seep on through.
In one of my short wanders, I passed by dreaming of a future with you filling up the void.
What rules to break, what numerous revelations to be sought after,
the safety net has a tear the size of a watermelon.
I saw you, my little trapeze ******* doing a balancing act fit for the judges. Who are you trying to impress, who else would you dance for?
Are you the wolf at my door?
I wandered between those strings, pressed back from fear of spiders.
We couldn’t there’s too much guilt, a dead swan on the lake,
Never is there room for another prodigal’s son.
Where are we going with all this, is there a light you're following that I don’t see? You’re being called elsewhere, I understand,
but if i never see you again let me feel the lack.
Meanwhile we will tame the tigers with whips and chairs, we will shout into microphones from across the room. Crowds before us, all hungry for a show, to see the performance of our lives. Ah Pandora, you may leave your box closed for now as I fear this ballerina has caught a bad case of stage fright, along with the tigers.
a response to A Supermarket in California by Allen Ginsberg
