Published July 17, 2005
Me-You Night angels
7-17-05
Night angels,
looming on the edge of their dreamland,
stand facing into the crystal full moon,
exhale the softly-perfumed dew,
pound their feet in nervous anticipation, and
launch up, into the empty sky...
Through my mind, you collide,
crash, explode into shards,
through my mind, you’re digested,
made yummy, night-time me
math me apart, like a baby bird....
and we’ll launch like your ginger-spiced angels,
up, up, up into the tragically-cold sky.
The night angels are drinking flavoured vodka,
into the slightly-hysterical night,
of bitter ashtrays, of bitter mood swings
to the wrinkling tune of old records and tales of woe...
and years that shouldn’t have been...
hot ramen twists with pencil nib decisions...
Images of masculinity and femininity are sliced
by big eyes, around the north and south place poles
of here, me-you, me-you, the night angels have a new
song, a new temple, where they worship destruction,
soft destruction,
soft destruction,
and can you hear the once-invincible metal groan and bend?
readying for the snap, snap...
Smash, came the storm in a storm
smash.
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140,588 Literary Works • 673,542 Reviews
I don't believe in science-art.
Get out of the clouds and start making concrete imagery flow into your poetry. Abstraction is generally used for pretty playonwords, but generally is hard to beat down to a science. My suggestion is that you start using concrete imagery.
Nice, but there were a few lines that just did not make any sence to me, like "math me apart like a baby bird". I really did not get that.