Greek Statues on TV
Watching a black & white kid Wayne Newton
sing on the Benny Goodman so
being aired by some forgotten satellite derelict channel
as I slurp condensed soup
and smear prayers all over my lips
Did you know Wayne Newton blows the horn?
I sure as hell didn’t.
Wheels keep turning in the direction they started,
you just don’t realize they are wheels,
until they carry you off and then understand
you’ll never be home,
you’ll never find them around the bend,
you’ll only be at home on the wheels
that never stop
just keep going.
Follow me into the desert
I have candy that melts in your brain
not in the sands
that look like waves because, well,
just a lot slower in terms of waves;
waves of microscopic glass,
and in this ocean you can hide your pyramid,
you can stare down your sphinx,
you can find me in the mirages, and
I’ll drink from you like the blue crystal waters
as the moon rises and the sun sinks.
Follow me into the desert.
I forget all the time how close I am to falling through ice into a cavern of darkness
You ever wonder if I was I supposed to be something else?
I probably should have been better
maybe I could have been smarter
or drunk and peaking at just the right moment to be charming.
You ever think we were made for somebody just to realize
sometimes you were made only to be you
and you alone;
emphasis on the word alone?
Maybe I could have been better and smarter and kinder, maybe,
It was so cold the other day that steam poured
out of my apartment like a tea kettle
with the radiators swelting like my heart in it’s cage
and I was dressed like it was the bahamas
with everyone having a panic attack about the cold
dressed like thrift store ninjas
about the freeze
about the memory that we all have to now do nothing
just lock ourselves in with our radiators.
I’m pretty sure I am creating this cold with my mind.