A fork in the path appears
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
ignore the veining shimmer that pulls me
and thrusts me in glossy, sweet projection……
I merge my points of allowing taking only THIS step
Enjoy your fabulous fabrication and
Yes FEEL the toffee gold sun in between your toes
lets shuck these green folds of
corn skin that cover me
my kernel is sweet
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
smiling in a tempest of
This is magical…..
where a kernel of corn
is the meaning of life
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 adventuring taste
one silver toy thing
sticky with birth
passed a thousand sensations
silently in the sand.
i cannot speak