There is a place I
knew once.
With jazz music playing
and handwritten scriptures
on the windows.
Every wall was a tapestry,
but the floor was never clean.
Flowers bloomed from the cacti
and books read themselves.
"Cast your fate to the wind"
It didn't have to make sense,
it only had to be real.
Candlesticks never burned
evenly
but everything was in sync.
Low lighting made for easier sight,
but only when the sun was in late bloom.
"Buy new dishwasher
or get old one repaired"
It didn't have to make sense,
it only had to be real.
I took to dancing in the kitchen
when I knew everyone was busy
burying their seeds.
Patches of paint in her eye,
they changed shape every new moon.
Place your broken down dreams
behind the garage,
you don't need them
anymore.
Somedays I slip into the stars and
swim in their forbidden pool.
It is a secret we share, a love
affair far too scandalous for print.
Every morning the rooster crowed,
but never at the same time.
"Don't get too close dear, the oven burns"
It never made sense,
but ever was it real.
Not my usual style, and I admit it doesn't make sense. But basically I was writing down everything I saw, things I heard and perceived about a place I was without really explaining them.
