fiddly ways
lydia and her fashion blistersdown the groovy
passion line
caterwauling up & down
the Palestine
it was growth fed
her gravy trains
ever slipping the downs
the slimgrooves
the orangey filigree
casually is never
enough
it was lodey town
we met
shaped the shimmy
groove, appled our
way downtown
capital planning it
was the undertow
in the mighty mighty
chain reactions
of all the ways
we imagine
summers rising
echoing pleasures found
by the roadside
in the kiln
in every punchline
of the randy
moves. fitting rooms
call the numbers
severing the holy days
from reaping
nesting
bollywooding
sunflowering
wariness in the nesty
nestiness, the golden
opportunities
yemaya holds in her
glorious spray. sing, babies,
sing the dross
the mossy finish
the samsonite
fiddly, it was
every way
the nose knew
the groove was
sculpting, strange attractors
in love with
viability on the slimshadiest
of ladies' dimes.
Labels: uther's dross
posted by murat11 at 2:39 PM
6 Comments:
what fun! I love this, just love it , every last bit-- reminded me of hearing Percy ""Mr. Bones" Danforth back in the day. It's been a long time since I've seen such a glorious list of gerunds and adjectives; might have to try using "apple" as a verb someday myself. Music, stories, poetry... looks like your break is off to a wonderful start.
Anno: Some of them just have to pulse on out; this writing to groovy little remixes in the headphones is kinda cool: almost like keyboarding along with the band. I am happy to have brought some Yuletide fun your way.
Apple on, amiga; apple on.
Sounds like you went shopping for ladies lingerie at an all you can eat buffet. Great rhythm and shimmies! A regular smorgasbord on the catwalk!
Teresa: Love your take on the origins. It started writing itself on the trip back from Mississippi, somewhere around Jacksonville, TX. Not much more than the pulse came through by the time I sat down to it yesterday, but I could still feel it.
So you were channeling the frequencies of all the different malls you passed along the road and all the different desires of holiday shoppers and feasters. Interesting! I really like it.
T: The first stir was the second time I saw a Golden Chick: small-burg fastfood fried poultry to some, but we know who the chick really is: Yemaya, Brazilian style.
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