by Paul Vincent Andrews
When she first arrived upon the scene
before the loquaciousness of the crowd
before raspy metal machine music
before the bone yards of fallen empires
before Gods
before I
her feet must have felt strange
planted in the hot arid sand
her eyes compelled to focus
on distant green lights of ancient
phosphorescent plankton
dancing on the rim
of a purple sea
did those green lights spell hope
Or, did she look upon this stage
as the worm devours it’s love the rose
the scrubland behind her
harboring megafauna
with bored opaque eyes
looking down with machinations
of the potential of the rock
next to her
as she skipped
the smaller disc shaped
stones in the sea
the first numbers
rippling
I imagine she turned
and looked back
hard eyes squinted
hungry, and fixated
upon the small furtive
creatures dancing
beside still pools
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didn't know if you were referring to B.C. woman...or a woman from Boston College (perhaps)...
ReplyDelete? i don't know either so...i think of green lights when i press the accelerator...i think of lanterns when creatures dance...i don't see water anymore when i'm playing pool...i see distant dangers (in every fool)...
but then again, worms keep dancin' (more like me), uncoiling and shamelessly, and less like P or O Or R...more like poorly, wasted...like a guitar in a case that sits in a hallway...
no no no...i don't imagine any women anymore...i simply convince my self that i'm not really a whore; and that i'm just bored by conviction and have nothing to fight for...