The Fabulous Fabrication

 

A fork in the path appears

whilst I,

knee deep in nude undoing

Can NOT anymore, in my rainforest cave,  resist the opal footprint,

nor can I nail myself to the floor or wall in the face of this

glowing movement forward

OR

ignore the veining shimmer that pulls me

OUT

and thrusts me in glossy, sweet projection……
I merge my points of allowing taking only THIS step

Enjoy your fabulous fabrication and
FEEL
Yes FEEL  the toffee gold sun in between your toes

 

Corn I AM

 

lets shuck these green folds of

corn skin that cover me

my kernel is sweet

I am….

rows and rows of friends

walking stiffly forward

a drama unplanned, randomly perfect,

an organised chaos

I in my gold pants and flourishing breasts

like waterfalls of flesh

sun bleached dunes

parting veils

dripping butter

smiling in a tempest of

spices

feet

personality

This is magical…..

a world

where a kernel of corn

is the meaning of life

 

 

 

 

I Cannot Speak

 

 

I cannot speak,

my mouth is full of coins

I cannot cry or beg

only muffled longing and eyes.

.

I cannot spit or barely breathe

for the tumbled gold between my teeth,

there is love making and revelry

that leaves me cold and choking.

.

I cannot eat

my lips a drum, a drawstring purse,

full to bursting.

.

A hint of space

seeks to displace

this mad gold,

frankincense and myrrh, fragrant contradictions.

.

Mouth and tongue pressed for time that coins cannot buy.

.

One ambitious

sliver

of success

one adventuring taste

of riches

one silver toy thing

sticky with birth

emerges

and falls

falls,

falling

passed a thousand sensations

to land

silently in the sand.

i cannot speak