Sunday, July 1, 2012

cayo hueso


I wish music could adopt me...

that one night 
when I felt free
like that shit means something,

like that shit counts

freedom in the potential:
angst but more. radical hopes but more.
some kind of fleeting wind
the fleetingness itself:
gave her a quick kiss
on a bleary club night, dingy, defeated, neon pink, fake plants, "kitchy,"
she says.
alive in the wild dreariness of crumbled ambitions
tacky suits and drunken dance steps
tapping out clave raythms
with the crew; at the table; passing a bottle of rum, tacky comedy, 
blaring over a
fashion-show-blur.

then out into the night
crowds and yellow lights blended into the purple darkness 
the wall holding back the massive sea.

free
stumbling over a gasping city

2 comments:

  1. Man, for the past 2 years every few months I just check this blog hoping something new popup in the screen. This year I though it was pretty much done for.
    Who knows how much it will last, yet I feel obligated to say it's fucking amazing, truly inspiring for whoever cares to read it.
    Respect, Love.

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  2. Thanks for your words, homie. I really only write on here when I'm depressed or lonely or bored, and thankfully none of those have been true very much lately. But I'm glad some of my rambling connects. peace and love

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