from the plate to the mouth the soup sometimes spills
66
Today a woman blew through this town and gave me a cookie
Tomorrow is her birthday and she comes bearing gifts
Smart woman, soaking up the karma like whiskey to bread pudding licking the plate of providence
All eyes on the fight
Boys with whiskers cheering like mad bulls in heat.
Ecstatic rage snarling and spinning
tangled in the velvet fabric in the mad mad matadors of the mind
Hollywood and Vine where the stars on the walk promise glitter is lurking
Somewhere. It is...somewhere. You can find it
Psst! Come Here. Aren't you pretty.
Oh, that glitter like Shangri La
How it twists and mattes in the hair and in the swollen iris' of angels.
all these bleeding angels
saving themselves
running around with a run in their wings
saving themselves.
sweet sweet girl lapping up lechery
gently suckling the milk of this city
rinsing the stars out of her eyes
unhooking fragility and hanging it out to dry
Fortunate fortune
From the plate to the mouth the soup sometimes spills.
PrintShare it! — Rate it: up down flag this hub
Comments
'all these bleeding angels
saving themselves
running around with a run in their wings' That speaks volumes to me. Great lines. I echo my friend Cris, most wonderful stuff. CC
Cris A says:
4 weeks ago
This leaves me silent but wanting for more. Your write so exquisitely and your metaphors are stuff I envy. Fortunate fortune - I wish I wrote that.
Thanks for sharing another wonderful read. An eye, if not on the world, at least, on the street where you live. :D