Thursday, March 18, 2010

Poem For Real Time


It isn't a strange life
lead by euphemistic correlatory
as if to step over one's rumbling lullabye
that fine image coughed through Belmont toward Addison
Is gonna leave us a story
is gonna answer our great questions with a YouTube doubler
cross navigated by email and topped of with a little Sykpe dra-izzle.
You, dancer in my head while these table clothes fade into divine tremors ha-ha-hacking the sun blast
fa-fa-fixing up the night.
I'm ready for real this time
nothing but the parliment screams of balled fists
nothing but the muted mouth opening
ha-who am I here loving it all in?
yes yes yes that tha-thing yes that la-hove yes baby
that love is a real thing ha-yeah.

xx Nailbot

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