Advertisements

Posts Tagged Mozart

The Ladies Don’t Want to Be Here

Sadness blows gray puffs from her turquoise.
Plugs don’t plug, and wires cross paths
with irritable tempers floating on the scum
of dirty rugs, where mirrors from monitors
shatter self, bright logs that support nothing

but pink coffins. Some gracefully leave
urgently, if only to save their remaining
sensibility, to float away with sticky wings,
unstuck but for the grace of gods who visit

only occasionly, who (the gods) sneer helplessly
at squeaky, rolling chairs, and the wires spark
despite masterful electrical architecture. The one

with the tubby brain thinks herself important
despite evidence to the contrary, thinks
the customers should love her, arrogantly,
just as management would want, but it is this

that is most insane as we watch time fly
by our worthlessness, laughing (time) at our ugly
building, crying at our tireless, circular motions,

wanting (time) to take us out of the game forever,
and all of this makes me want my Mozart.

.

Advertisements

, , , , , , , , ,

6 Comments

Let Me Breathe the Paint That Fixes Me

Co-worker’s text book smacked me.
“Insanity.” My heart went boom.
Can you fix me with your new knowledge?

Smell of fresh paint threw my body
up along the ceiling tiles.
That’s it; paint me over.

A thin coat would cover me.
Healing psychosis, let me learn.
Spiritual work is much bigger
than any of the dog shit I do.

I wanted to be that sick man,
that sick man who heals others.
How feebleminded is that?
I also wanted to be Mozart.

Let me breathe the emulsions,
read the psych text books,
and let me live in the park.
Let me die like Mozart.

, , , , , , , , ,

Leave a comment

Manual Shutdown

I don’t want my eyes to function now.
Merging time with cross-eyed alienation.
All of the yards of junk disappear.
And a huge choir sings Mozart
deep in a crevice in my head.

, , , , , , , ,

4 Comments

Mozart Cheers For Me

Momentary crash, dive, crawl, duck, hide.

Indecision on my music choice.

Surely I am lost.

 

Her hair, seemingly perfect,

Grazes the collar of a delicate,

Graceful, white blouse.

Her velvet eyes through the dark frames

Tell me maybe, maybe not.

 

How about Mozart and a laugh?

How about tiny champagne flutes

And her heels, her legs in my lap?

The clarity and beauty of Mozart.

The clarity and beauty of wild sex.

 

This stunning dream takes me away.

Mozart cheers and cheers.

Mozart tells me nothing matters but

My lady in the dark, sexy eyeglasses.

Mozart dances on to the next soul.

 

, , , , ,

Leave a comment

%d bloggers like this: