Telepathic misdirection;

superhuman drug;

slight overdose of you.

Where would you like to meet?

We try to remember that we are

always becoming popular.

He was naked, remembering?

Looking west;

looking west;

looking west.

Tracks are from

Hiroshima

and species can

replace the host.

– S

Toronto – April 16, 2012

The green nude dancing through her eyes;

their faces are cold from the sea beneath them

and the black cherries within their veins.

Their smiles aglow smoothly, their hands taste sweet,

and their temptation remains a mystery

not to the red plantains,

but to you and me.

S

My eyes roll to my right,

and the red danger sign

flashes under the sun.

And on left, there is nothing

but a green floral pillow case

and four more stares.

On the back of my head

I still feel the pain of the

empty bottles and the

words that I never remember.

I smell detoxification.

In my very front, I am heading to

the lightness of my destiny.

In my ears,

“I still do”.

S

Something inside them is

falling to pieces. Big smiles are failing like flakes;

they hide behind the blue bricks.

Storytellers reveal the toxic waste,

and Sylvia sings “the night dances”.

“A smile fell in the grass. Irretrievable!”,

she once said.

The world still moves in beats

without the lost boys and

last autumn moments.

Even ours.

S

Far from the “closer” days,

way beyond the leaves,

pale clouds are chanting

loud with aggression.

She closed her eyes to

what’s called “yesterday”.

Black and white grapes,

a bar of music are all she desires.

She hated the light.

And rain?

Never.

S

She is not his; he is not hers.

She, her heart is pounding gently

like the floating whales in the Pacific;

and he, he is lost in the pond of lust.

The seconds are dragging into decades.

The secrets are turning into goddamn lies.

The diving bells are on strike,

so are the embroidered angels and the butterflies.

Cry baby cry;

till you are lost as the

midnight light is lost in dark.

Jump if you dare;

into the golden daffodil fields,

till tears stretch in never-ending lines.

S

The scones are baking

and the purple ink is all over me;

so are love and midnight bullets.

He whispers with a smile;

she nods – she is still shy.

Who knows what’s dancing in her mind?

Who cares how many antennas

are reaching out to the wet sky?

Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

I made a wish,

just now.

S

She sips and sips,

drinks up the whole cup of dreams

while admiring; while loving.

Her head still aches;

her phone never rang;

who really gives a damn?

Her lips are in smile;

her mind is in bloody pain;

and the girl in blue doesn’t know how to walk.

S

Quiet.
Midnight flights glowing.
Drowning in my thoughts,
I kicked the pill away,
shot it to nowhere land.

It was the darkest night.
The old moon was not right.
I made a wish regardless,
negligent of the dawn,
when I read of my loss in the news.

S