Dark spaceships
are deploying
overhead
But in the city below
The veil of buildings
just want to say
hello
to me
Dark faces pass by
gracefully
in multicolor
cabs
I wave
at their
dark
silhouettes
And imagine
they're blowing
kisses
all the way
back
to me
As they keep
slowly driving away
It is
a premontion
of my death
Concrete still looms
flowers will
always bloom
along Spadina
avenue
What have I done?
I've turned
everyone
into a demon
Feet step softly
onto
cool
long
grass
where passion flowers lay
theyme, sickle, and hay
Now I've turned it
all around
Basil, finches, and sage
Even the garbage cans
look graceful at
six am
Will the grey buildings
say goodbye to me
when i'm gone?
When they don't
know me
anymore?
3 comments:
"even the garbage cans look graceful at six am"
that is magical!!
holy sh*t! awesome. that line grabbed me, too.
i would change the "gracefully" part though, maybe to multicolor gracefully cabs, even though it doesn't make sense. something about the metre doesn't quite work there.
but crap, man. this is awesome.
I know, I was drunk when I wrote this. I re-read it this morning when and realized that the metre was totally off. I'll fix it.
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