Bag O' Cement -- Unicorn

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Date Posted: 06:59:50 01/07/04 Wed
Author: AGS
Author Host/IP: ACA8815A.ipt.aol.com / 172.168.129.90
Subject: Bag O' Cement

The sun filtered my room
like a choir
tinny sounds in rumination
flat out in
cheer;

memories dreamed,
a lather of sun

It was more like some heavy weird Bach piece
with those booming low notes
he liked to get into,

to shake so many foundations
'pon which normal people
count; rest, and
love to show neighbors -

although they more interested in their thinning lawn,
and why the necks of the daffodils they bought
always too high

They have lovely eyes:
that glare:

a fixation,

like going
to the drive-in
and the screen just stuck there
for a moment,

allowing that quick slurp
of buttered popcorn
and swift guzzle of coke
without
initiating too much a cough;

the blues there,

in hiding
tucked behind some tonsil

This was my life
a stunning arpeggio
when no string really counted
more than of the
other

and the hearing fooled
for listeners
to pick, choose
ones of temporal
satisfaction;

like long neck roses,
bloomed for a week
or examinations
of dirt:

a little
too dark
by the sidewalk
I walk

Oh did you seem them,
by the way

I try choose
only the best,

the rest here slumped
in wrapping -

those pink curtains
I have
torn down
now, temporarily

to wrap all that is extraneous
and tossed
those cuties
to the corner for now

Perhaps they'll bloom correctly
by the left-over
bag of cement

Copyright Albert Swanson 2003
All Rights Reserved

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