all comes through as fast and hard.
red and torn and painted.
behind crowds stands
are dancers, beers from their arms,
edge of anyplace wherever
get out, shoulders; whatever,
whipt, dropt to dance there.
they bounce against the stage.
swung hair gets wrapped in lighting.
to grab. Heat as hearts quicken.
animal rhythm, bodies are water.
sings from the throat and lips. No
into the microphone but
of water, fishes in light.
from her ears bounce
head bops. she loses and keeps beat.
gypsy skirts fall from dirty jean jackets.
patches sewn. Soft wanton fringed
drops from hinge. The clockwork
Her power is elbow
at will. On stage,
dying young he is yellow,
drooling. They call him back.
from her rubber hip
living. Sweat from temples
down necks. The air here, grinning.
hilarious. Zombie eyes around her,
time here, beating their
against tables torn from the foundation
In the secret basement
rebound against an ashtray.
the answer to the
jungle, ornament of torn
and hair. She leans,
from her drink like a fine limbed
Hair in drinks carries wet music
| Her backbone
is an inbent wand.
feel his arm ascend.
willingly hypnotised under
of limbs. The hotel calls him.
enveloping him viscous, intentional.
in wood, in the mid city where
words fall from t shirts,
children bash body to bone
sound is chaotic.
look is gazed
abyss, into his wide eyed