lazarus
Blue Crack Supplier
California-->Los Angeles-->Hollywood...something about the city and the movie business, celebrity trials, multiculturalism, illusion. More myth of the American West.
ALL THINGS UNDREAM'D
look my way downtown
where the air and the sweaty stares are brown,
the clouds like pore-swabbed cotton balls,
perched merchants in the deco halls
of a once-great now-late tomorrowland epicenter;
nobody's fault but miners 49ers
rush to sludge meant trickle down ergonomics
make the world go loud
unveil the smile in a tireskid
relish the malice in a katydid
--or maybe she didn't
but you can be sure that her heart wa'nt innit,
delicadoes in the mouths of bronze paramours
ceiling fans cleave the smoky tendrils
as oaths are broken on the bench
by sweatbeads on the moustache
lipsticked collar and perfumed cuff;
acqui-yes! I'll agree, I'll agree
for a shot of rye, a bowl of tea;
lost hours in a Japanese garden
hid in microcos'ahm feeling looked for--
the next avenue is a tribe for two,
another acre for a faker on the run,
stitch in the quilt of the pueblo
in search of a surgeon to blend it together;
sparked by a welder's Frankenstein flash,
in the sun we are named,
painted and framed,
observed through a railway window,
loved at first and last sight
mark hit and lines delivered,
she sits beneath the fairy dust,
waiting for another chance
to dance with the magic box
while the locusts swarm around
creating the scene and the sound
of another unheard scream--
the backdrop for all things undream'd.
laz
ALL THINGS UNDREAM'D
look my way downtown
where the air and the sweaty stares are brown,
the clouds like pore-swabbed cotton balls,
perched merchants in the deco halls
of a once-great now-late tomorrowland epicenter;
nobody's fault but miners 49ers
rush to sludge meant trickle down ergonomics
make the world go loud
unveil the smile in a tireskid
relish the malice in a katydid
--or maybe she didn't
but you can be sure that her heart wa'nt innit,
delicadoes in the mouths of bronze paramours
ceiling fans cleave the smoky tendrils
as oaths are broken on the bench
by sweatbeads on the moustache
lipsticked collar and perfumed cuff;
acqui-yes! I'll agree, I'll agree
for a shot of rye, a bowl of tea;
lost hours in a Japanese garden
hid in microcos'ahm feeling looked for--
the next avenue is a tribe for two,
another acre for a faker on the run,
stitch in the quilt of the pueblo
in search of a surgeon to blend it together;
sparked by a welder's Frankenstein flash,
in the sun we are named,
painted and framed,
observed through a railway window,
loved at first and last sight
mark hit and lines delivered,
she sits beneath the fairy dust,
waiting for another chance
to dance with the magic box
while the locusts swarm around
creating the scene and the sound
of another unheard scream--
the backdrop for all things undream'd.
laz
